I was sore. And I removed it, I looked at my skin, it was red, It was almost forming a wound. But not yet. I was worried. I should have worn socks. He looked at me, "why didn't you wear socks?"
It was at 7pm. The streets were starting to turn dark. I had enough money to almost pay half-rent someone's rent. At that time on the streets, when everyone is rushing home. There are people who sell things. They put them out on display, so that as you walk down the streets, the darkening street after a days work, you spend your money on them. They don't open shop very early in the morning. People work at that time, they open shop late at night, when lust is high, they open shop at night after people are tired of the toil from work. They open shop on weekends, when people want to enjoy. I was walking down the streets, heading to do something, i cant remember. But I had enough money to pay half someone's rent though, and didn't know what to spend it on anyways.
There they were, most of them brown like light, some were chocolate like pleasure. Others were completely black but beautiful like some Sudanese. Some you could see their strings hanging off. Some did not have strings. Some were open, almost open. Some were covered. Most of them were beautiful, most of them were on display. At that corner of the street all of them were on display actually. Yours for the taking. So long as you got out your wallet. Whatever size you wanted, big small whatever suited you. Some you could wear without socks, some you could wear with. Depending on how much you were willing to spend.
There are different corners of the streets I hear, some where you can get new ones, young ones. Even some no one has ever worn. Even the ones that have never been worn, you could get at a price, to break into them. All you would need to do is ask one of the men who worked there at such streets to get you ones that are young, new, without any blemish on the skin, you had to pay more though for them. Cause they come from behind, they aren't the ones usually on display. You request for them. The ones on display sometimes you would find they have been worn, just to fit a few times.
But there is another end of the street where you find ones so used they smell. Some are infect too old to wear. You have to buy soap to clean them before you wear them. Dare you wear them without socks! It is all good cause everyone has priorities, they prioritize. It depended how much you wanted to spend, and what you wanted out of the place.
I was enticed by the first shop. The first shop I got into looked lovely. They had very nice brown ones especially, all of them were new, they smelled fresh. They had their own sort of perfume, but not perfume really. I didn't want to pick any of them from there though, cause I knew there was another shop ahead, with better lighting, where they even sell socks as they sell them.
I walked into the second shop. I was almost greeted with a smile. But I guess smiles are hard to buy when staff are paid minimum wage. He took me around, showing me around. I felt embarrassed. It is not a good thing to be seen walking in such a place for too long, especially if you are a man. I went round the shops looking. Then I zeroed down on two, the softest. I knew they were a bit pricey, they would be but it never hurts to buy experience. Even when it cost half someone's rent.
"Should I take brown one or the black one?" I asked the shop attendant. I held one, they wouldn't charge me to squeeze. I touched it everywhere, even inside, to feel how soft they were. How well they could absorb my fluids. I didn't care for such things. Things I bought. My aim was to use them. Pour my things into them. And leave them. I can use either this two without socks. I can wear them raw. I obviously couldn't touch all parts inside them. There was no time. Besides whatever glitters is gold isn't it?
I paid up. And I left. I paid as if I was paying to half-rent for an apartment reasonably priced out of town. What was I doing? I asked myself! Am a man! I already have enough! What was I doing here in the night on the streets picking up things on display ? What were people thinking of me as I walked the streets? They all knew I had bought. It had it's price written all over, they knew it. I rushed to get to the car.
I put myself in it. It felt nice. I put it in raw. I got turned on by the fact that I was ruining them. With my sweat. With my fluids. They would almost smell after I am done with it. Then I would rest and let myself air.
But then I started to feel pain. My skin was sore. How could they? I had gone to a reputable place, they pride themselves in variety, back then when I was in high school and primary school. I used to almost all the time buy my shoes from Bata. Then they didn't have variety. Now they do. Probably they should have just stuck to school shoes, leave the big league shoes to designers. They have loafer and sandals. They have boots and heels. They have sketchers probably even wedges. I dont know how those last ones look, it's girls who wear them. But I suspect they are there. They even have plastic shoes.
I am not a girl. I don't get to a shop and fit both sides of the shoes. Walk around the shop with my girlfriends to test them. I just pick the ones that look nice. Yes I touch and squeeze them a bit. But I don't get both shoes out, if the first ones fit. Then the second one must also fit. The second one fitted yes, but it didn't fit well. After I wore it at home. It pressed me. It hurt me. Bata had made one shoe tighter than the other. There was bad workmanship inside it. So my left let was mashed. As I walked. I got a sore. A red one almost like a blister. Even when I wore socks it was the same.
It had been two weeks since I had bought them. Am a guy so I unwrap my shoes after a week or two after I buy them. I don't buy shoes and the first thing I do is go dance or cat walk confront of a mirror; the day I buy them. Trying to look at what matches with what, in my wardrobe. It was after two weeks that I wore them, when I discovered the soreness.
I was having lunch with a girl. Yes, I take my mother for dates sometimes. We were having lunch. The restaurant had nice floors, just like I like. I got off my shoes so that I can let them touch the floor. It's a bad habit I have. The floor always feels nicer when my feet are bare. No one wants you to remove socks in a restaurant. So don't wear socks. The floor wasn't cold, so it was perfect. From enjoying soft raw padded shoes inside, to enjoying the earth, the floor, the wood underneath, everything raw is natural. Natural things even like pearls feel nice. Why should I wear socks when I wear such shoes? They feel so nice without them. Besides, it was Saturday, the day where you stop wearing the soft shiny leather shoes, that dictate you wear socks otherwise you would create, global warming in the office, like the smelly global warming in China or is it India?
On Saturday, you start wearing leather shoes that absorb. That do not use polish but evapourating suede to clean them. Soft. They are also leathered you know. But the kind that can let water on when you get into a pond. Therefore can absorb sweat in like a towel. I get turned on by spoiling such lovely pairs of shoes.
I let my shoes out. I felt nice on my left feet when I took it out. I was no longer a bitch. The food tasted better even. It was like my removing the shoe caused me to feel better. I looked at my feet and saw a red spot. It was like I had a thorn in my leg the whole time. So that was where my bad mood was from. How would I know? Bata is excellent. They always make the best. They are a class of their own, and very reasonably priced I must say. I kept putting on that left shoe and walking around the restaurant. There must be a mistake! After all those pairs, even the guys there knew me. After all those pairs of comfortability and perfection. I looked into the shoe. Trying to find the part that hurt me, I found it.
"Can I have some money?" I asked the lady seated next to me. My pockets were empty. I rushed to the shop anger driving me mostly, than anything else. Don't you love mothers? They always put your interest first? I left her there. We weren't going to have lunch before I had picked my bone with Bata Shoe Company. When you are angry, you take down giants.
When anger drives you also, you don't realize it is raining. I got to the shop, and I got smiles. I was back. They must have been assuming I was going to spoil myself with another pair. Sometimes I am embarrassed about the number of shoes I buy. Walking in the streets with a bag with Bata written all over it. Everyone knows I have been buying shoes. And am a guy, dammit! But if I feel nice who cares.
I wasn't feeling nice. And I let the whole shop know that. They sent the manager to me. When the other staff could not handle me. How dare he tell me to stuff the shoes with papers? I buy a pair of shoes to stuff with papers so that they expand. Even the manager pissed me off. I bought socks, such shops sell socks with shoes. I wore them there. And still screamed they hurt me. I touched other shoes, the black ones I had left. I wore them and they were different. They were comfortable. Mine were the same size as those, the exact same pair. But different cause mine hurt me.
What do you mean my feet arent the same size? What do you mean they will expand? After hurting me that much? What do you mean you can only replace them when you see a visible tear? What if the whole structure is wrong? I wanted to buy another pair of the same. But they were out of stock.
You see I am not foolish, I know that even though I stop buying a pair from them, and they have really nice pieces. They will still live. The company will not die. In fact I will buy more of their shoes. But I will try buy even more shoes at a different store. But when I go to Bata, I will not show them I am happy. I will not hide my anger and hate for them. I was hurt. And I will hit it where it hurts most, I will bitch and bitch until those bustards know their place. Their place is up there with good customer service. But that day their customer service was mixed up on the floor with poop and bad smells. Everyplace with poop and bad smells causes you to be angry, irritable to be exact. Bata is like that to me now, the irritableness that is caused by a thorn in a shoe that spoils your mood so much you do forget to say hi to people. Bata is a bad day to me now. Just rush in angry, get what you want. Walk around the shop since you dont trust them anymore, them rush out. Escape.
Maybe I will stop shopping there one day. Besides there are better shops that sell Clarks from England, on the same streets. Maybe I will shop At those places more often.
I went back to the restaurant with the thorn in the left foot still on my leg. I found my mother missing and got really mad. It is the shoes I reminded myself. They are the pain. I called her. She didn't pick up. It was the shoe, I reminded myself. It started to rain as I walked back to the car, I got mad. Mad at the weather? It was the shoe not the rain. The hotel staff who escorted me with the umbrella let a little rain pour on me by mistake as I got into the car. I reminded myself, it was the shoe not the umbrella, at least I was largely dry.
I drove home and just when I was about to write my heart out I remembered I had left my iPad in the restaurant. My mother must have it. Instead of thinking of how sweet it was for her to have had my food packed, I felt angry that she had sausages packed instead of molo chops. I felt angry I didn't have my iPad to write my anger away, therapy. It was the shoes, she was just trying to be the best mother in the world. When I kicked of the shoes and pulled out the shocks I was still red. When I touched the red spot I felt pain. Dirty hands on a bruise always feels pain. My hand had been touching Bata shoes... They were dirty, it was the shoes. It was Bata.
Someone get me out of this bad relationship I have with Bata, it's like the bad relationship I have with Safaricom? Or is it the shoes not safaricom? Always going back even when they hurt me? Which bad relationship are you trapped in? Or is it the thorn in my shoe that is making me see everything negatively? Is it Kenya Power And Lighting or the Bata shoes. What bad relationship are you trapped in? Or is it the Bata shoe that makes me look at everything negatively?
