Here Comes Trouble

Although it had secretly been on my trail for years, trouble finally showed up in December.


We stopped into a few open houses for !*&!@s and giggles. As a matter of courtesy, we always take our shoes off when we walk through a house. At the second house we visited, we were alone.We kicked off our shoes and began to look around. As were were perusing, five or six other couples showed up with the same intention and followed the same procedure.

It's always a little weird when you look at the people who are looking at the same property at which you're looking. You immediately begin to compare and contrast with the other folks who, at least for that moment, have similar interests to your own and against whom you may actually be competing if all the hundreds of gears clicked.

After we finished our tour of the upstairs and the fake finished basement, we were the first couple ready to leave. When I went to the pile of shoes by the door to put on my boots, I noticed there was another pair of shoes exactly like mine...same size....same make.

I picked up the pair that I thought was mine. Lynn handed me the other pair and insisted they were my pair. I looked at both pair and chose the one that I thought was mine and put the other pair down.

Naturally, I chose the pair that Lynn picked

When Lynn handed me the pair and I made my choice I accidentally picked two right shoes. I didn't realize my mistake until I had put them on my feet.

Just as I was getting ready to grab one of the two left shoes that I had put down, apparently where the other guy had left his shoes, the other guy arrives and he's sort of pissed off.

'You got my shoes' he stated with the affirmative, confidence of the usual ass hole.

I asked him how he knew.

He said 'because I remember the place that I put them down'

Of course he had foolishly placed his shoes a few inches from where I had placed mine and we there first.

I made a little joke about walking a mile in his shoes.

He huffed and stomped away.

T'was then I realized I had two right shoes, one on my right foot and another right one on the wrong foot. I removed the wrong foot from the right shoe. I put the wrong right shoe next to the pair of left shoes neither of which were right. I picked the left shoe from the left-right left shoe in the shoe pile that I figured might be mine and stuck that one on my foot.

From this point on, I would never be sure if I was wearing this other guy's shoes or my shoes or my left shoe and his right shoe or his let shoe or my right shoe.

We walked out of the property, pretty sure we weren't gonna get THAT house after THAT !*&!@. I started thinking about the dude's attitude. I remembered the moment when I had two right shoes on. Just to be ridiculous, I said ' that guy was full of !*&!@. How could he have known where he put his shoes after I had already moved both pairs in the process of ascertaining which ones were mine and which were his?

I didn't really give a !*&!@ about the shoes as they were/are headed for replacement anyways.

As we walked to the car, I said to Lynn . 'I should have just walked out with the two right shoes. In that way, I could be assured that at least one of the shoes was truly mine.'

'Yeah, she said, 'the big shot deserved to come out and find two left shoes in the place that he was sure that he had placed his shoes'

'And, y know what Lynn? You know what he would have found when he went to leave?'

'Two left shoes' she answered.

'And what would you call that, honey' I queried in the ambiguous tone of voice she has learned means that the next thing I say will be either smart or stupid'

She grudgingly played the straight woman and asked with the slightest bit of irritation in her voice.

'I don't know, Jerry.....What would you call it. Boom. Wait for it. 'A pair of leftovers.' Silence though.

© 2017 Thornton Krell - 3/20/17

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