Beautiful Stranger

Four

The next morning, I was listening to this mix Kylie sent me and I started twirling around my apartment making a big joke out of myself because her mix was too ‘girly’. Mom called and I had to lie about breakfast partly because I’m not a breakfast person and for some reasons mothers just can't get on with their lives if their sons did not eat breakfast. Mom said she just called to remind me about the dinner we’re supposed to have later today and she told me to wear something comfortable: meaning, I’d have to accompany her with her shopping may it be for clothes or shoes. You’re just never sure what a girl needs to shop for.

 It turned out to be shoes.

“I’ve got this party and, I bought this gorgeous orange dress and it was when I reached home that I realized I don’t have any shoes that would match.” She explained. We were entering the first shop of her choice and I’m already bored.

“Should you wear these?” I asked showing a pair of white stilettos with a silly smile.

“Paul Adrienne Maurice! How could you suggest such thing?” Oh she was furious. She hated stilettos ever since she humiliated herself by falling the very first time she wore them.

So, to get my way out of this shopping craze, I did the easiest way out: all I suggested were the ones I knew she’d hate.

She heaved a sigh and threw her arms up when she said: “Fine, where do I find you?”

I kissed her cheek. “In an overflowing mountain of rubber shoes. I don’t know. I’ll text you.”

I liked rubber shoes. I was determining whether to take a high-cut one or the plain white one. I really hate the latter, it’s like I’m working on an asylum or something, so I purchased the red high-cut rubber shoes. I was pretty contented with what I had bought so I went to look for mom.

One can never understand how the female mind chooses. I’m pretty sure they never really decide on something. I strongly believe they take what they feel is right while secretly wishing they can take all.

“What do you think?”

“Uh. I’m sorry, is there a difference?” I asked looking at two faded orange sandals that’s very much alike.

“These, son. These.” She held the sides closer to my face and that’s when I saw the dilemma. The one on the right is designed with a flower and the other one with a butterfly. The rest was cloned; I don’t know how the female mind managed to make a big deal out of a flower and a butterfly.

“The one with the flowers?” I suggested before I saw her.

She was standing a few feet away from me, looking at the stereotype ladies’ shoes that are on sale. She had this blue green cardigan over a light blue tube. And who could overlook her deep-set-eyes? Nobody.

I took a pair of sexy dancing shoes and I asked the cashier lady for a pen and a piece of paper.

You should try these and, I don’t know, dance? Maybe you have your own sexy steps (such a small world isn’t it)

While mom was paying, I told the lady to give the shoes to that lady— I pointed her out— and to hand her the note. When she started walking towards her, mom and I were walking out of the shop. I watched her reaction as she opened my note through the glass. I smiled before leaving.