A Formative Summer

I had just turned 18 and my parents had decided that it was time to start learning how to earn money on my own. They made me apply for jobs for the summer and after applying everywhere with no skillset, a shoe store was willing to hire me. It was a small boutique shop in the middle of downtown between the mall and the bus transit station. You would have thought that it would have translated to more customers. My boss ended up being a pleasant woman in her fourties that seemed to have a soft spot for young men who were just starting out.

I barely saw the rest of the staff after my orientation. I ran the shifts solo with my boss always available by phone if I had a question or needed additional help. I was excited to do a good job and impress her and my parents to show them that I was ready for the world. This was my first job and I wanted it to count. Hopefully my experiences would be formative. Little did I know how formative that summer would actually be.

Strangely not many customers would come to the store. Since it was my first job I did not think too much about it. After about two weeks, a woman in her forties came in. Everything about her felt... elegant. The way she walked, the way she carried herself, the confidence in her steps. I happened to be the only one in the store at the time and there were no other customers all day.

"Hello Madam, how may I assist you?"

She looked at me and paused. Her lips curled into a smile and she tapped her finger on her cheek as if thinking.

"Yes... I think you will be able to assist me... I would like to try on these heels."

She pointed seemingly randomly to a pair on display.

"Which sizes would you like?"

She smiled even more broadly and said.

"I think you should try to figure that out, young man."

I was confused but I nodded and motioned for her to sit on the bench. I got the device to measure people's feet and kneeled in front of her and looked up at her. She looked like she was waiting so without a word, I took off her shoes with my hands and discovered her stocking covered feet. There was something different about the way she talked. The smell of her feet and touching her stockings, I felt something stirring inside of me. Like butterflies on my first date.

I carefully measured her feet and found myself blushing for some reason. I could not understand why I was blushing... I had done this for many customers before her.... Why was she affecting me so much?

I focused on the task as she watched me carefully. She was a 7.5. I excused myself and tried to hide my excitement by turning away from her as I got up. I brought her the heels she had pointed to in a 7, 7.5, and 8.

I slipped the 8 onto her feet first and explained it might be too big. So far the words out of my mouth were the same as the countless times I had said them before. Yet why did my hands tremble, why did I try to sneak a sniff of her foot?

I helped her stand up. She took a few steps and said they were too big. For the next hour, she made me grab and put away countless heels. I did so diligently without complaining. Her smile that betrayed secret thoughts only grew and grew as the time went on. It was like she was judging me... pushing me to see if I would complain or throw a tantrum as she continued to endlessly ask for more shoes to try.

After about 2 hours, she stopped and said that she would need to think about it before she made a decision. She had me do all the work and she was not even going to buy a single shoe! She seemed to watch me carefully for my reaction. I simply nodded and said that we would be waiting for her when she was ready.

As she gathered her things, she paused and looked at my name tag. She verified my name and in an off-hand way she asked how old I was.

I replied that I had just turned 18.

Her smile turned wolfish as she said goodbye and walked out.