Shoes

No. You. Don't.

Said El Marron loudly whilst glaring at me.

I smirked. Looking about, I could see the others around me trying not to laugh as well.

Yes. You. Do.

I stated equally as loudly.

El Marron reared up like a cockroach before a particularly pretty pebble.

There's no need for ANYONE to own more than three pairs of shoes!

He bellowed. A spectacularly foamy white froth flecked the side of his mouth as if he had fellated a spaniel to completion.

On this matter, we shall agree to disagree. That ok?

El Marron hissed in annoyance then stamped away muttering about weegies.

Charlie the Red sidled up to me.

I thought he was going to explode?

Not yet Charlie me old muckeroon. Maybe soon.

I grinned and waltzed off to plug some more PC cables in.

It was the end of the first week working in the new office Callisto.

I had had a bloody fantastic week. You can hardly call crawling about under desks plugging in wires real work and yet here I was doing that very thing.

It was hard not to happily strut about like a peacock with a carrrot up its himjiminy at times.

I had to pretend of course that I was hating every minute of it lest El Jefe banish me back to Glasgow where I would have to do some real work.

Besides the joy of not really having to think for a couple of weeks I had found a new pleasure.

It was teasing El Marron.

I simply couldn't help myself. His thickly accented east coast voice sounded like a big shit that was on fire. When he got angry, even more so.

I had quickly found out that the easiest way to make him angry was to politely disagree with him. He had the oddest of opinions, so it wasn't hard.

Today it was shoes.

We had just had a bit of a coffee break and he had stridden up, all brown trousers and bushy hair. Myself and one of the dudes were talking about our plans for lunchtime. I had said I was going to buy a pair of trainers.

El Marron butted in.

A man only needs three pairs of shoes.

Aman-o-ee-peratoos?

I replied quizzically.

His face turned slightly red and he spoke more slowly.

A man only needs three pairs of shoes.

Shite. I think I have loads.

I had scoffed.

His eyes had bugged out his head slightly.

Loads, are ye mad?!?!

I nodded.

Obviously. What makes you think you only need three?

He growled, as if I was scratching his wife's back just above her tail.

One pair for work. One for lounge wear and one for the garden of course!

He looked about at everyone attempting to garner support. As if what he had said was not the most fucking mental thing in the world.

Well, I need more.

I stated grandly.

And so we had found ourselves arguing over whether I needed more shoes.

Later, as I was crawling about under a desk, someone approached and cleared their throat.

I popped my head out. It was El Jefe.

Have you been winding up El Marron about his shoes?

He said with a tired sigh.

Yes indeed, why? Is he still going on about it?

El Jefe hunkered down on his knees.

Yes he is. Could you stop winding him up please?

Sure boss.

I answered back with a sunny smile.

El Jefe trotted off, satisfied he had defused a shoe'y situation.

Later at lunchtime as I headed out to buy the very items which seemed to be causing so much contention, I passed the kitchen area where a few people were sitting having their lunch.

El Jefe was sitting with El Marron chatting.

El Jefe? Answer quick! How many pairs of shoes do you actually own?

I barked.

He looked up distractedly.

What, I don't know, lots?

El Marron rounded on El Jefe, spluttering indignantly.

Lots? What do you mean lots? A man only needs...

I walked on with a smile on my face and a spring in my step.