Being Dependable

Here’s one of my favorite younger-days memories of barefootedness (to coin a term). In one place we lived, I loved to relax and de-stress by taking shoeless walks. Cooler days felt just fine upon my feet if I wore long sleeves, and on summer days I had to judge how hot the sidewalks had become. I felt like a kid, free to go outdoors barefoot, starting in the morning.

Down the easy walking distance was a neighborhood market, and during many such walks, getting a few groceries was a natural addition. I loved the feeling of the smooth, cool linoleum beneath my soles after the rough textures of the sidewalk and parking lot. I made my selections, returned to the front and then, as her time allowed, the store owner and I conversed a while as I stood at the counter. Then I enjoyed the return walk home.

The owner was a nice acquaintance at the time. Sometimes we even talked about religion! It’s a shame that acquaintances like her aren’t usually the type of person with whom we stay in touch, but as I say, we can remember them with a hopeful prayer.

My routinely liberated feet and toes became a running joke, no pun intended, because the owner also preferred going that way, and considered me a sympathetic customer for slipping from her sandals. “I’m glad you go barefoot!” she declared. “I would, too, but customers give me dirty looks. But my feet are never near the food, so what’s the problem?” She even scolded me one day (jokingly) for wearing sneakers. I had unintentionally failed as an ally.

Places “where everyone knows your name” are precious. It’s not every day that you’re encouraged to be barefooted in public, and dependably so at that.