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The Investment Banker's Shoes
Contributed by
kenwells
on
Thursday, 2nd December 2004 @ 07:20:02 PM in AEST
Topic:
Lifepoems
|
The investment banker left his office
turned off the light
and entered the elevator
A long day
had turned into a night of work
An important account
He was at the very top of his game
He was 46 now, and his hair was greying slightly, but this only lent distinction to his appearance
Tall, dignified, impeccably groomed
The elevator reached the ground
and he left the glass and chrome skyscraper
and walked into the cold, clean air of the night
The elevator reached the ground
and he left the glass and chrome skyscraper
and walked into the cold, clean air of the night
He straightened the jacket of his $2,000 navy blue tailored pinstriped business suit, and his carefully knotted burgundy silk tie, and began the walk to the garage where his Mercedes Benz waited
His shoes, polished like black diamonds, made the only sound in the deserted financial district
He liked the satisfying click of the heels on the cement
Just that morning
an old man
had shined his shoes
for him
at his desk while he read the financial times
And now the shoes told the world who he was
He took a breath of the cold air and let his $1500 briefcase swing slightly in rhythm as he walked
The echo of his shoes cut through the cold air, saying authority and dignity and power and success and respect
He enjoyed the sensation of well-being that came with a job well-done and with the obvious glances of admiration and envy that came his way from the few passers-by
Then he heard a sound
'Change, sir...change, sir...'
The regular cry that all city-dwellers knew
He tightened his grip on his briefcase and saw the source
A young man sat on a step
in front of a brownstone
wearing an old sweatshirt
even older jeans
His feet were bare and dirty - his hair tangled - his eyes sad and angry and broken
The banker stopped and pulled out a dollar
He gave it to the young man
The young man's eyes were fixed on the ground
The banker looked down
His shoes, expensive and new and so shiny they looked like mirrors
The beggar's bare feet, just a few inches away
The young man started to cry
The banker stepped back and resumed his walk
The young man's crying continued - insistent, exhausted and broken
The banker continued walking
The young man's sobs remained in his mind
He walked two more blocks, but the sobs remained
Growing louder and taking up room in his mind
Banging against the walls of the priveleged bastion of his corporate identity
He placed his hands over his ears, but the noise increased
He reached the garage, but the noise had become a pandemonium
He began to run - a corporate executive in a business suit running through the streets,
trying to escape the sound
The banker stopped and the echoes of his sleek, gleaming shoes died away
For five minutes he hesitated, moving back and forth in his mind but remaining still
An agony of indecision
He looked at his own shoes
And thought - his thoughts manifesting in the din of wails and sobs filling his brain
Then he turned around and retraced his steps
He found the homeless man, still sobbing
The homeless man stopped and looked up
'It's your turn'
The banker looked down again at his shoes
The noise inside his mind had stopped
The cuffs of his hand-tailored suit brushed the leather. He clenched his toes inside them
Then he sighed
He knelt down on the pavement, and with manicured hands began to untie his right shoe
The young man grew quiet and stared at the whiter-than-white shirt cuff and the monogrammed gold cuff links and the pinstriped suit sleeve and the executive's hands as they finished untying the polished black dress shoe
Then the banker sighed again
He slowly slid his heel out of the right shoe - and for a moment hesitated
then the rest of his foot slid out of its expensive leather home
Then he removed the left shoe as well
The banker looked down at his feet, his toes traceable inside the thin black Brooks Brothers business socks
The shoes sat alone
neat and shining, separated from their owner
Then he sighed again and reached his hand under the tailored cuff of his suit
He reached the top of his sock and peeled it off
In a moment, he had pulled off his other sock
He dropped the socks, one by one, on top of the shoes
The banker stood up, barefoot in his pinstriped business suit and carefully tied necktie
For the first time he felt the cold damp cement under the smooth soles of his pampered white-collar feet
Then he sighed again
He unfastened his cufflinks and slid his Rolex off his wrist
He untied his silk necktie and pulled it off.
Then with shaking manicured hands, he unbuttoned his pinstriped suit jacket and slid his arms out of it
The homeless man took the items
Then he unbuttoned his red braces and pulled them out of his trousers
With a sigh, his pinstriped trousers fell in a puddle of expensive hand-tailored wool on the cold ground
Then his Brooks Brothers shorts and t-shirt joined them
The successful and respected and dignified investment banker
stood naked
on the freezing street in the middle of the financial district
The homeless man pulled out a pair of scissors and picked up each item of clothing.
With quick movements, he sliced through the wool of the suit and the silk tie and socks and the cotton shirt
A tear slid down the cheek of the naked man
who had once been a well-dressed corporate executive
as the scissors cut through the silk socks that he had once worn with pride
and the pinstriped suit that a tailor had made for him in London and the necktie that he had tied so carefully that morning
No - he would never again go to his office
A heap of wool and silk and cotton ribbons were all that remained of his fine business clothes
The homeless man threw everything into a garbage can
and handed the naked executive a pair of filthy jeans and an old sweatshirt
The former executive put them on and sat on the cold concrete
Everything was gone
Except the shoes
He picked up one of the gleaming black dress shoes and handed it to the former investment banker
The former banker picked up the shoe and looked at it with a gasp of longing and a sigh of resignation
An old woman was wakling towards them
He lifted his shoe
A quarter landed in the shoe,
and found its place in the small worn space created by the foot of the former banker who was no more
Copyright ©
kenwells
... [
2004-12-02 19:20:02]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: The Investment Banker's Shoes
(User Rating: 1 )
by Sinned on
Thursday, 2nd December 2004 @ 07:35:17 PM AEST
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a Message)
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How did the banker lose his job? I got lost what's the point?
Sinned |
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Re: The Investment Banker's Shoes
(User Rating: 1 )
by Rxqueen on
Thursday, 2nd December 2004 @ 10:11:50 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| I loved the first half, but totally got confused and lost on the second... Why did he do that. How come the homeless guy had scissors? Why did he cut up the stuff instead of wearing it? |
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Re: The Investment Banker's Shoes
(User Rating: 1 )
by twinkletoes on
Thursday, 2nd December 2004 @ 10:40:17 PM AEST
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a Message)
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I dont get in here very often anymore, but I am glad I have read this piece. A work that has been with you a while? Loved the idea of the homeless man cutting the clothes, brought to me an idea of turning away from the old life and this was a ritual. You are a person who clearly has written a piece that has brought out emotion, questions, guesses, antisipation and much more. Well done.
Twinks, |
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Re: The Investment Banker's Shoes
(User Rating: 1 )
by kenwells on
Friday, 3rd December 2004 @ 09:03:05 PM AEST
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a Message)
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Thanks for the comments, folks.
You're right about my intent, Twinks - but those of you who were confused: I totally understand.
I was trying to capture the idea that the homeless man's identity enters into the executive, and takes over. I think I put it in the wrong category! (Too bad we can't edit our stuff!)
Ah well, I'll try harder in the furture!
thanks for your comments |
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Re: The Investment Banker's Shoes
(User Rating: 1 )
by JJMcBride on
Saturday, 9th July 2005 @ 09:43:13 PM AEST
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a Message)
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| This is fascinating |
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