Here I am
sitting
in the middle of women’s shoes
in the middle of a department store
in the middle of a mall
I lost my wife
somewhere
along the way
I looked down to write a check and ‘poof’ she disappeared.
I tried to follow her trail through the vastness of that other department store but
she left no distinctive clues and
I failed to find her no matter how many circles I wandered…so
Here I am
sitting
a bag with the recent purchase on one side
three pairs of shoes waiting in boxes for her on the other side
my choice to be a stationary target.
Afterall
this is not my natural habitat.
Here I am
sitting
and watching
women foraging over red tag sales
while husbands-in-waiting stand tentatively
casting furtive glances hoping for a quick kill
and a soon return to the safety of their castles
and comfort of television remotes.
young ladies with beaus in tow
in training
future husbands-in-waiting
cornered warriors trapped by infatuation.
women glancing in my direction knowing
I am out of place
short, balding, middle aged white male
in Women’s Shoes, alone
obviously lost….or worse
they grip their children’s hands a little tighter
as they hurry by
and I smile and hope
my smile doesn’t look …evil.
I am still here
sitting
and watching
She will find me pretty soon
store closes in less than an hour
young unmarried male sales clerk thinks he understands
and smiles
but keeps an eye on me anyway
mostly women ‘just looking’ for nothing in particular
other men passing by looking at other women passing by
avoiding eye contact but willing to ogle the shapes
and in so doing miss the real action
in the faces
wherein lies true beauty
wonders of mysteries
and untold stories both good and bad.
Two women with young boy about the age of my youngest
same energy but a little more undisciplined
can’t tell for sure which one is the mother
probably the one that doesn’t care as much
and is trying on sneakers
while the other reprimands and warns and threatens
without consequence
and then glances at me with quick looks
of embarrassment and wariness.
She would probably relax a little if she knew that this
short balding middle aged white male in Women’s Shoes
had six kids of his own,
but she doesn’t
and keeps her own close.
My pager goes off and I call home.
She has tracked me down
waiting in the car outside that other store.
I apologetically leave the three pairs of shoes in their boxes by my chair
young unmarried males sales clerk thinks he understands
and smiles
probably breathes a sigh of relief as he watches me out the door.
I am grinning as I get into the car, a little unsure of what awaits.
She laughs when I tell her where I’ve been and says,
“Most men would have been furious…”
and I feel like a king
wanting never to be like most men.
-William Paul Young
