Driving wears out my shoe.

They say that it’s illegal to drive barefooted, but I don’t know about that.

The position and consistent motion of my right foot when I drove resulted in my right shoes being rubbed out and worn down along the outer side.  I became tired of all my right shoes looking old and worn, while my left shoes yet appeared fairly new.  To preserve my shoes, I got a pair exclusively for driving.  Yes. You got it – a shoe just for driving!     This singular-purposed shoe never left the confines of my car.  I put it on when I entered.  I took it off when I exited. One day, on my way to an important appointment downtown Toronto – the major city for business in Ontario, Canada – I decided to put on the driving shoe on my right foot, only.  After all, it was the only culprit! 

Snagging a parking space in downtown Toronto.

Well, if you know the Spadina Ave. and Queen St. locale – fashion district of the Greater Toronto Area (GTA) – you are aware that except you are extremely lucky, you are going to have to circle the block a few times before you snag a parking spot. That day, my patience was truly tried.  I went around the blocks in all four directions, more than a few times, before I finally pulled up and waited for an elderly man to maneuver his way, very slowly, out of a parking spot. Time was ticking away and I needed to walk into my appointment, fifteen minutes before schedule, in order to remain cool, calm and collective.  I edged into the space even as the old man was still pulling out.

As soon as I straightened the wheel, I jammed the gear stick into the parking position, grabbed my portfolio, jumped out of the car and started to hustle through the crowd towards the building.  A common personal trait is being observant, always – both of my surroundings and especially the people in it.  I noticed that an unusual number of people were quite attracted to my feet.  I ignored them.  I had better things on my mind.  I was on a mission.  Conscious of the philosophy of making a good first impression, I couldn’t concern myself with their preoccupation.  Then just as I stretched my hand to open the large glass doors, a lady on her way out of the building, suddenly stopped in her tracks, fastened her eyes on my shoes, and gulped a couple time.  I got the impression that she wanted to say something to me, but was at a loss for words.   Her expression forced my eyes to look downward. Now it was my turn to gulp and gasp.

Taken Aback.

“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed, in momentary horror.  There on my left foot was a brand new shiny pair of black patent pump, prettied up with a golden and (fake) pearl ornament; and on my right was my trusty driving shoe – old, battered and worn.  Only I knew when it too was in its glory.  The leather on the right side was rubbed down to almost a hole.  In those days I did a lot of driving.  The posh looking lady in the tweed and leather suit still stood, staring at my feet – mesmerized.  She had never imagined such a travesty.  I attempted to explain; to apologize for the obvious onslaught I was waging against her mind, but then I remembered my mission at hand.  I turned quickly and darted back to my car; kicked off good old battered and worn, and slipped on the patent pump on my right foot. I rushed to my meeting without looking back – I made it just on time.   I shuddered to think what my so crucial first impression would be, had it not been for the prim and proper Miss Tweed.  To this day, I thank her in my heart.

The Aftermath.

Every time I remember the ghastly look on the face of this well adorned woman, I cannot help but to laugh.  I often wonder exactly what she was thinking; but only God knows. I would have paid a good penny for her thought.  Now, I simply drive barefooted.