The Cinderella Kid

Wednesday, date night has been our custom for the last two years. Tonight it was movie night at the theatre inside of the mall. On our way in I’d noticed out of the corner of my eye a very unique shoe store. It appeared to be a factory where people were handmaking the shoes right there on the floor. I needed to see this, so Rachel and I split up as there was a shop that she wanted to look in as well. We both agreed to meet back in front of theatre in twenty minutes.

I started walking, the shop was down a hall and around a corner. There were floor to ceiling frosted glass walls dividing the store from the mall. A small window approximately two feeet by two feet occupied the center of the frosted wall. As I approached a tall well dressed older man stood to greet me, his girth took up most of the small window but I could still see the store, barely, behind him. He looked me up and down and with an expression that may suggest that I was bothering him he asked, in a deep baritone. May i help you?

 Yeah, I wanted to come in and see the factory and maybe buy some shoes. He took in my appearance, looking me up and down and started to laugh. I was wearing a red black and grey camouflage hoodie, with blue jeans and a pair of black slip on Addidas shoes. He told me to come back wearing a suit jacket and maybe then I’d be allowed in. Well that comment put me back on my heels. I knew that I wasn’t dressed up per se, but I didn’t think that I looked that bad. So I decided to be a bit of a jerk. Sir, I said, is this not a capitalistic society in which we live, is your business not based solely on the inflow of cash and credit and I reached into my pocket and pulled out two one hundred dollar bills.

 He started laughing even harder. In fact he was laughing so hard that he decided not to laugh alone. He called two other “gentlemen” over to take in the scene. They came over, looking at their colleague quizzically and then they saw me. They got the joke immeaditly and so did I. 

I wasn’t good enough to visit their store. My two hundred dollars couldn’t cover the price of a shoe lace in their store. My perciedved intrinsic human value wasn’t high enough to muddy the door mat on my way in to waste their time in their store. I was deflated immeadiatly, embarrassed, angry, very angry. Who did they think they were. What societal birthright did thay have that allowed them to become glorified doormen. I wanted to take back some of my dignity.

 In a not very well thought through plan I took off my muddy Addidas, picked them up and started pressing the soles of both shoes all over their nice clean windows. 

Well that freaked them out, they started screaming vandalism and locking down the store. One of them activated an alarm, while the other called for security. Two red spinning lights dropped down form the ceiling. It was chaos people were running, alarms were blaring then a guard gate dropped down in front of me to protect the store.

 I was so scarred that I dropped my shoes and sprinted out of there in my socks. I looked up saw Rachel leaving her store, her hands full of bags containing newly purchased this and that’s. She was on her way to meet me in front of the theatre, right on time. I’d completly forgotten about the movie. I ran up to her, my adrenaline pumping, body dripping with sweat.

 She asked what’s wrong and how did you leave a shoe store with less shoes than you went with. I swear, this woman’s sense of humor could make me forget nearly anything. 

We’ve got to leave right now. Once we got into the car and on the highway I told her the entire story. 

Why exactly did you think it was a good idea to smear mud all over their glass? I said it’s not important right now. She said, the fuck it isn’t. We were supposed to go see a movie. They didn’t let you into their shop and now you’re shoeless and you think that’s not important. Maybe I could have handled it a better I said. 

 She had a wry smile on her face, while she leaned her seat back and asked me, what do you think you’re nick name will be on the news tonight.

 Rachel, I said in a warning tone but I knew that it wouldn’t phase her. I’d done something that was, arguably, stupid. In this relationship, stupid acts get roasted. 

Do you think they’ll call you the shoeless vandal. 

Babe. 

No, that wont sell, maybe the Cinderella kid.

 Seriously Rachel come on, I turned off the freeway heading toward our local restaurant.

 No, imagine it, the police going door to door with your Addidas looking for the perfect match.

The familiar bell over the door rang as we walked in to sit down. I’d grabbed a pair of Rachel’s flip flops out of the trunk of the car. They were purple and I secretly loved them. We sat ourselves in a booth and waited for Alice. It was a 50’s style diner with all elderly waitresses. You couldn’t smoke inside anymore but the walls still showed remmenants of a time that was less heath conciness and probably a little more fun.

 Alice was in her mid fifties sweet and sincere but she suffered no foolishness. I’d personally witnessed her physically throw out two teenage hooligans for doing less than I’d just done at the shoe store. Alice greeted us the same way she always did, with two coffee mugs that she filled at the table and the question of have you seen the news tonight. Alice is a current events junkie. I took my first sip of black coffee and Rachel said no Alice, what’s happening in the world tonight? Did someone happen to lose their shoes at the Canterbury mall and have to run away after inexplicably vandalizing a helpless glass window. 

I knew it wasn’t over. Rachel chuckled and lightly kicked me under the table. 

So you have heard said Alice. 

Heard what Alice? 

About the vandal, they’re calling him the Flintstone fugitive.