The other day, I wrote about a guy who lost his shoes. That guy is me. You people who sent me messages asking, I hereby confess. They were black, leather, Chelsea boots. A pair of beauty. I walked in them and felt like the Matrix. Or Chuck Norris. I was ready to take down the corrupt deep state myself and later meet with Vladimir Putin to instruct him to step down from government! Boots have a thing about them that gives them an aura of badassness – even cats! Just think about Puss In Boots! He would have been those cats we watch chasing their own tails on Youtube if he did not have his boots.
I cannot describe the circumstances under which I lost these shoes very clearly, but I know I had them before I boarded that matatu bound for Naivasha. I settled myself in a window seat, and as soon as the matatu started moving I blacked out. The next time I was opening my eyes, we were just passing Kayole – a few minutes out of Naivasha town. The way my mind works is that if I wake up abruptly from a snooze, I am no more than a sheep caught in headlights. My brain glitches and loads like an old Windows 7 computer. By the time I was coming to my reality, I was on a motorbike heading to my aunty’s. To be honest, I am not the sort of person who sleeps in public transport. What would people think if a fly flew into my wide open, drooling mouth as I doze off? What if they took pictures and posted on social media? No. But on this instance, I had just hard a hectic week and my mind was desperate for some rest. I got to my aunt’s that Saturday afternoon, and my life continued untroubled.
Then came Monday, the day when I would know the meaning of improvise, adapt, overcome! Usually, I wake up, iron my clothes, shower, brush teeth, eat breakfast then head out. The only point I interact with my shoes is when I am heading out. So this morning, I had an 8AM physical meeting (can’t believe we have to specify these days) that I was already running late to. I did everything in haste, and then at the point of heading out, I looked and saw no boots. Frantically I rushed to the laundry room and scanned around, nothing! I went over my bedroom, nothing! I called out our house-help’s name so loudly that her namesake from the neighbour’s house responded with a panic-stricken “YEEEEESS!”.
“Where are my shoes?” I demanded, moving around as though I was possessed.
“Which ones? The brown ones?” she responded, almost jumping and down the place.
“Noo..the black boots.. The new ones!”
“What new ones?” She wondered?
It is at this point that I realised I was sailing the same boat as she was. None of us had seen those shoes in this house because they never got to the house. I recalled having them in the matatu, but not on the motorbike. And because I did not have time to think about this now because a meeting was looming, I had to find a solution. The only other shoes I had with me were black rubber shoes. But I was wearing a two-piece suit! Can you imagine the content I would have given everyone who saw me? Trending on twitter aside, what sort of person would the people I was going to meet think I am? “If we wanted to work with a clown, we would have gone to the kids fair! You have wasted our time!” I imagined they would say! My options were not any better. I would have worn my uncles shoes, but they were size 12. The only time I would wear size 12 is if I wanted to float on water, because they would fit my tiny feet like boats!
I ended up getting late to the meeting, and wearing the rubber shoes. But because my mother did not give birth to a clown, I had bandaged my left leg, and walked with a limp. Instead of making fun and wondering from what rural village I came from, everyone who saw me empathised with me. They asked me if I was okay, to which I would say “yes, just hurt my leg a bit.” At the office, the people I was going to meet (serious people), were not even vexed by my lateness. They pulled a chair for me and served me and tea. The meeting went well, the day even better. All I had to do was remember to walk with a limp. I am no clown!
I lost my shoes in a matatu. They were in a red shopping bag. I must have left them in my confusion. If you happen to see them, call leave me a comment and we will link up. If you are the kind that takes messages away from stories, take this: reality is subjective. Just by changing one thing, you can completely alter the way people perceive and respond to you.