They are terrible, these girls of ours. The cuter, the more propensity for being insensitive monsters. Well, not that there are sensitive monsters but you get the drift. Stop harassing me, just read on. It is not easy to find a good woman, even though the girls complain that it is doubly hard to find even a half-decent man these days.
This seems to have ended with our parent’s generation. Good girls have become extinct like the dinosaurs,. What we are left with are liars, hypocrites and good looking monsters. They do not know anything about honesty and truth, it is just business.
Walking through the mall the other day, just looking around, I happened to spot this pair of shoes that I thought were nice. I do not know much about girl’s shoes, but immediately my girl came to mind. I thought to myself, ‘it has been really long since I last gave my girl a gift. These shoes would look really nice on her’. So, I walked in, emptied my wallet and walked out with the shoes, a really costly unplanned gift.
My pocket was empty but my heart was full. I knew she would be thrilled, and indeed when I gave them to her, she was over the moon with excitement. She immediately put them on, pranced and strutted around the room like a proud peacock. Looking at her, I was contented; it was worth every penny, even though they had cost me a chunk of money, as I went to sleep that night, I was contented just because she was happy.
So you can imagine my shock and disbelief when I went to see her the other day and I overheard her telling her friend how I had bought her these fake leather shoes, possibly the fakest shoes this side of the equator, no in fact on the whole continent! I was just about to enter her room when I heard them laugh out loud, and curiosity and a feeling of great despair rendered me motionless. She went on to describe how I had strutted in like I had just bought her a brand new car, and handed her the “bu-shoes”.
But of course she had had to pretend to be pleased because, “bambi, the guy was so proud of himself. Ela, I do not even know what to do with them. I think I am going to give them to the cleaning woman, and I will tell him that I was robbed, and the robber took the shoes because they were so awesome....” and they laughed and laughed and I died a little inside.
Something thudded inside the room, I imagined it was her throwing the shoes against a wall. They laughed again. Her friend suggested she just leave them there, for at least a month then one day just throw them away. But, my girl asked, “what if he asks me to wear them, like when we are going out? Won’t I simply die being seen in those things?” And they laughed again till they were breathless. I decided that perhaps this was not the right time for me to visit her because suddenly I didn’t feel like I loved her anymore. Yet I loved her to bits.
Later, perhaps it won’t hurt that much, I will surely get over it. I got my hand off the door handle, and walked off. As I walked away, I heard her ask her friend, “Can I give them to your maid?”
The shoes disappeared after three weeks, and when I asked, she told me her young sister had “kidnapped them because they were so cute”. Now, how exactly do shoes get kidnapped?