North Key House Pre Sunrise, warm out, not a bit of breeze
One boot. Just one. Who does a thing like this? I had gotten up early to get ready for a day of demo with the boys on North Key Suites. Sitting down on my side porch to put on my work shoes, the boys noticed that one of my work boots was gone. To clarify the difference between work boots and work shoes, work shoes are a low cut hybird sneaker thing that I tend to wear because they are quite a bit easier on floor finishes than a true work boot. Those can get small rocks and dirt stuck in the treads which can cause damage. Thats why I had left my work boots outside by the back door. I had worn the work boots the day before to help the tree guys remove Michele’s chain link fence and overgrowth prior to a nice new wood fence being installed. My first thought when the boys pointed out that one of my boots was missing was that they were playing a trick on me. They assured me that they were innocent of the charges I had immediately levied against them, but I wasn’t convinced. They have a long history of crimes in and against Utobya.
After lunch the boot had still not been returned, so I did a more thorough search of the surrounding area. Trucks nope, tool trailer nope, hedges, nope. I was starting to believe that they were actually innocent. When the day ended, the boys left still claiming that they had been set up. I felt inclined to believe them. You see that while we may play all kinds of tricks on each other there are basically two unspoken rules to the game. One, the trick is only funny if no one gets hurt, and two, it can’t effect a guys ability to do his job. Boots are as important as any of the other tools in our arsenal so it would have been a major violation to end the day without its return. With the boys surprisingly cleared from suspicion it was time to compile a list of other possible suspects. First off, my neighbors. We have been making a whole lot of noise in the hood lately, but I get along just fine with everyone so they all are quickly taken off my list. Second, was of course terrorists. I had seen some Fox news before and was well aware that al quesadilla was still plotting all kinds of attacks. They had done a shoe bomb before so why not a boot bomb? I was pretty sure that this was highly unlikely for two reasons. First, the military industry complex had surely sent them plenty of boots for their destructive shenanigans and there was no way they could handle the smell of a long worn Floridian summer work boot. Therefore, they were also cleared of suspicion. With the neighbors and them terrorists exonerated, I was down to just a few more possibilities. Maybe it was a dog. I was well aware of the kleptomaniacal nature of canines. Perhaps my boot had become a new chew toy for some wandering pup. If that was the case I was ok with that. Not thrilled about it, but ok with it. The only thing is, it also seemed pretty unlikely. All the dogs I see walking by my house seem to be smaller than my missing boot. Secondly, they are always securely tethered to a retired person that they are dragging behind them. Poop bag in one hand, leash in the other. If I ever needed some additional positive reinforcement to dispel any negative cognitive dissonance about my being a cat guy, that scene is it. That left me one final suspect. The drunk guy that I used to be. Back in the day I had perpetrated my fair share of Jim Beam infused mayhem and pranks. Now while I’m sure the statute of limitations has passed on most of my previous transgressions, I will invoke my 5th amendment right and spare ya’ll the details.
I guess it’s a sign of aging that I can try to find some humor in this situation. The younger me would have been yapping about how the perpetrator of this crime had better pre arrange an appointment with their proctologist for removal of the remaining boot after I had found who they were, but now the older, going grey me, looks at the situation from a different perspective. I think about all the mischief I had caused when I was drinking. Some of the best times I can barely remember. Coming up on 10 years dry, I can look back and see my old self in in that boot thief. Fired up, drunk, ready to have a good time. Young, wild, and fresh out of give a f📷😉’s. I feel grateful to have had those days and to have lived through them without causing too much damage. So make those memories, stir up a little trouble and enjoy the boot buddy, but by all means be careful what you step in with it.
Thanks for your time.
Toby Turner
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