Short-Story High Heels and Cobblestone Pavements

High Heels and Cobblestone Pavements

She wants to buy herself shoes. Basically, I have no objections. Of all days, however, why today? Actually, I have planned to go with her to the car dealer, scrutinizing several new models. Maybe one or two test drives...

"Jonas!"

She calls me and I step up to her! I have never been able to deny that stunner anything. Her name is Sina, and it matches her. She is a chickie, but a very special one; Sina is sexy, funny and intelligent.

She embraces me, and her eyes tell me: You do what I want.

It doesn't matter. She shall get her shoes. However, for what reason? About 98 pairs of those street kicks are already in her possession, as I call them secretly. Her collection ranges from low heels to very very high heels - everything a woman needs. May I point out that I have four pairs of shoes exactly? My winter boots included.

In the first three shops, Sina drops the comments,

"Out!"

"Too cheesy!"

and, "Grandma's toe massagers."

Unfortunately, I don't understand Sina's shoe language, and I arrive at the decision that it would be better to hold my tongue.

In the fourth shop, I am slightly disgruntled. I am sitting in the background, while my beloved lady is trying shoes on. Right now, she is bending down to one of the lower shelves. My oh my! Sina's back view is gorgeous! The sight makes me feel a bit hot. Therefore, I focus my attention to the people who have just entered the store. It is a couple. He is probably in his early seventies, and the girl that accompanies him must certainly be his granddaughter.

"Take a look, love, they are the ones!" she calls out, and the addressed person scrutinizes, obviously expertly, a pair of pumps.

"Yoo-hoo, look!"

In bright green shoes, Sina proudly strides up and down before me. The straps look very narrow, and I am seriously concerned about Sina's safety. Moreover: The heels are murderously high. With those shoes, Sina towers above me, and it doesn't make me feel all too happy either.

On the other hand, her already very long legs look even longer now.

Once again, she walks up and down, while she scrutinizes herself in the wall-high mirror. Shaking her bottom, she finally plants herself in front of me. I contort my head, so that I can look her in the face.

"They are the ones! They are my shoes! I love them!" Sina sighs enthusiastically.

She loves them. I can't remember that she has ever said something like that to me. Have I already told her that I love her?

My train of thoughts is abruptly interrupted, because the unequal couple starts a fight next to us. "Love" is of the opinion that the pair of pumps isn't worth its price. I peer at the price tag on Sina's high-heeled sandals, and I have to swallow. Exactly the monthly installment for the car I would like to buy. Oh well, what is a car in comparison to high heels? A man - in this case, it's me - has to put himself in women's shoes, in the true sense of the word. That's it!

Sina rushes to the counter, and I hurry up to catch up with her. It is too late! She is going to buy them, put them on and the neat sum of money will be gone.

"Pack my shoes into the bag; I keep on the new ones," Sina says to the cashier, and she whips my credit card out without further ado. Where did she get hold of it?

However, I don't have the time to think about it now. The payment operation is in progress, and Sina reaches for the plastic bag with her "old" shoes, while she drops the remark that a cup of cappuccino would do her good now.

I am rather in the mood for a glass of whiskey; two glasses would even be better. Sina, however, disapproves of drinking alcohol at daytime. So, an espresso will have to do.

Outside on the street, Sina's balance skills are tested. Because of the historical cityscape, the shopping mile in the old part of the city was paved with cobblestones. That "catwalk" is not exactly suitable for my sweetheart's new purchase.

After some "Ohs" and "Ouches", Sina links arms with me, and she passes the comment, "It is simply horrible. Do those city planners actually think that all people are running around in sneakers?"

I cannot think of an answer, because I am laboriously trying to keep Sina on her feet. What's the matter with her? She usually moves so gratefully in high heels. I must admit: She has never worn such extremely high heels, after all. However, they go nicely with her white shorts and her green top, which emphasize her neat curves.

Basically, I really like it very much when she throws herself into my arms. Now, however, I also have some difficulties in keeping my balance. The pedestrian area does justice to its name, and we are in the middle of a crowd of people who are - more or less - rushing around. We have to adjust ourselves to their speed, so that they won't crush us.

"Jonas!" Sina whines. "Not so fast. My shoes..." She interrupts her complaint with a sigh, and then she stops abruptly.

The people behind us don't stand a chance to sidestep, they collide with us and push us to the ground. In the following, rowdy confusion of legs and arms, I repeatedly try to reach for Sina's am. Which arm belongs to Sina? I hear her screaming angrily, "Hands off, you boor!"

An elder lady supports herself on my left leg, trying to struggle to her feet. The guy, however, who is lying half on me, takes advantage of the situation; he simply climbs over that lady, out of the chaos. Once again, an angry scream reaches my ears. Where is Sina?

A kick in my crotch makes the air escape from my lungs, and it brings tears to my eyes. The old lady has managed to kneel on my stomach. Even my long-term training at the health club hasn't prepared me for such an ordeal. She gives me an impudent grin, and then she says, "Hi, beautiful young man."

Fortunately, the cluster of people disentangles soon afterwards, and the old lady climbs over me. She picks up her bag and winks at me teasingly.

Sina has also shown up again. At a distance of about one meter, she is sitting to my right. She has looked better at other times; her hair is shaggy, a red weal is running across her left cheek, and her beautiful long legs are scratched.

"Are you hurt?" I ask her with concern, while I am helping her to struggle to her feet.

"Can't you see it?" she snarls at me. You stupid men are to blame for that! We women shall always look sexy and wear extremely high heels, so that you have something to gape at; at the same time, you need those idiotic cobblestones, just because the city shall look beautiful! You blockheads! You are nothing but unsophisticated cave dwellers!"

Oh, is that so? I don't know how to react to her accusation. Somehow, she is right, after all.

Now I notice that Sina is barefoot.

"Where are your shoes?" I ask her in amazement.

"My shoes?" Sina looks around.

Green high heels are nowhere to be seen. The plastic bag with her "old" shoes has disappeared as well. Fortunately, Sina's handbag is still hanging on her shoulder. May I mention that my credit card is in it?

"Stolen! Those damned jerks have stolen my shoes!"

Sina's furious screams are drowned by the noise in the pedestrian area.

"Come on, let's go to a café. The shoes are gone, and there is nothing to be done about that," I try to calm Sina down.

"There is nothing to be done about that?" Sina exclaims angrily. "I tell you what we will do: We will go to the police and report it to them! Those wicked shoe thieves belong behind bars!"

On bare feet, Sina starts on her way. Her missing high heels don't affect the swinging of her hips. She weaves her way through the crowd of shoppers, and I have no other choice but to follow her. Then, however, she stops dead in her tracks all of a sudden. Her eyes are glued to a pair of feet. I follow her gaze. Those feet are wearing bright green and very high-heeled sandals with narrow straps. It is the girl from the shoe store. Together with her companion, she is standing in front of a shop window.

"You mean, thievish bitch! How dare you! Those high heels are mine! And the bag belongs to me as well!" Sina lunges at the girl and snatches the plastic bag from her.

"Love! Help me!" the thief whines. Love, however, looks frantically around and takes to his heels as quickly as in any way possible.

Sina is in her element now. It seems to me that her hands are turning into claws. She grabs the girl on her shoulders and wrestles her to the ground. The girl is kicking and screaming like a banshee, but Sina is without mercy. She snatches the stolen goods from the thief's feet, and then she jumps up, triumphantly holding her belongings high up in the air.

"Nobody steals my new favorites!" she says to the girl in a strict tone of voice. "And my old favorites neither!" she adds, wiggling the plastic bag before the face of the girl who is lying on the ground. Several passersby have witnessed the scenario with interest. Nodding their approval, they walk on by.

Sina plants one of her feet on the girl's chest.

"You are lucky that I won't report you to the police! Don't you ever do that again, do you understand?"

The whole situation embarrasses me. Nevertheless, I can't do otherwise but to admire my darling.

"Well, now we can go to a café, after all."

As if nothing has happened at all, Sina links arms with me and pulls me with her. We are leaving a weeping girl behind who looks like a picture of misery, and I almost feel pity for her.

It has never been advisable to tangle with women, when it is about shoes. Today, I have learned as much.

"You know what?" Sina says, "It has just come into my mind that I would need a new handbag, matching my shoes..."

For all "sorely afflicted" men

by

Irmgard