We had set off on the most mundane of errands. I needed new laces for my very old, worn and comfortable, but very cheap and fake, Timberland boots.
We were about 30 yards away when we spotted him. Everyone else was staring at the lights, waiting for the green man to light up, waiting for their chance to cross the road.
This guy wasn’t doing that, this guy was staring down at the ground, at his own feet. He couldn’t take his eyes off his obviously brand new, very expensive and genuine-looking Timberland boots. This guy was twirling one foot around then the other, admiring those brand new boots from every angle.
“Let’s mug him,” whispered Mr TLC.
“What? For his boots? They might not be my size!”
“No, for his laces!”
We collapsed into giggles as we joined the small crowd and waited to cross the road. A couple of people stared at us, but not Mr New Boots, he was still fully occupied admiring his own feet.
“But he looks like he can run faster than us,” I whispered to Mr TLC, “We’ll never get away.”
“Nah,” he replied, “We’ll be fine, he’ll fall over trying to run in boots with no laces.”
At that point the green man lit up and our short and unpromising careers as wannabe muggers came to an untimely end as we headed off to buy shoelaces like good law-abiding citizens.
As for Mr New Boots, he headed off in a different direction, still totally engrossed by his footwear. He seemed unaware of anything else, so he probably didn’t notice the other people around him, the people he would have walked into had they not stepped quickly out of his way.
Those boots were made for admiring…
I can’t imagine being so overcome by a pair of boots that I’d act like that.