Red Pumps
More properly, and since that was decades past, I can easily refer to the aforementioned “Red Pumps” as stripper shoes. “CFM” footwear?
Stiletto heels. Bright red.
This was old Austin, and I was stuck somewhere between an Aries, a suite of Virgos, and some Gemini. Others, too. I was still a regular at Magnolia Cafe, Threadgills, and, timing was early double-aughts. Pretty sure about that. Okay, I’m less than sure. Mid 90’s to early double-aughts?
Follies and fantasies of youth?
For some reason and I can’t find any reference in my own material, although, I was sure I did reference this, maybe in a horoscope?
It was another hot Texas summer in Austin, and there was a whole raft of these young women, a tightly knit group of strong female characters. Individuals, but also a crowd. I floated merrily on the periphery — facts, age, relationships — all posted me carefully on edge of the group, a walk-on, bit-player, that’s my position.
One spring evening, I was someplace, they were someplace else, and there was a situation, ex-boyfriend or something, and somehow, there were three cars but only two drivers.
“Here, Kramer, you drive the truck.” It was just a short trip from the compound to the warehouse, not really even across town, and much less of a distance than I’ve walked before, so it wasn’t a big deal. Hope springs internal, always did.
Three-on-the-tree, 3/4-ton Dodge Ram. Fitting it belonged to an Aries?
My old joke, “I can’t drive an automatic.”
Not entirely uncommon, I had left the trailer park barefoot, because I had no distinct plans that evening, and no need to wear shoes, or even sandals. Not going out to eat or anything, probably riding with a friend, perhaps one of the aforementioned females of interest.
“Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried,
Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel…”
- Hamlet (I.iii.64-5)
The misty times of memory are getting worse, and I recall less detail, other than, for a brief moment, I was driving south on Congress Ave., cop behind me, and while I had a valid license, I didn’t have footwear, and I would’ve been hard-pressed to explain the red pumps on the seat next to me.
It’s been ten years, and maybe more, since I last laid eyes on you…
“Well, it’s been ten years and maybe more since I first set eyes on you.
The best years of my life gone by, here I am alone and blue.” (Heartbreaker)
They all are. Interesting counterpoint, the sister showed up between the San Marcos and Blanco River, and when she said hello, I couldn’t remember her name — just her sign.
Salient take-away image for me, driving south, around, before, Y2K? Big, manly truck, and me, minimally clad with no footwear except for a set of red pumps on the seat next to me.
All is now lost in the sands of time.
