The morning rush had already been hectic, and squeezing through a throng of people equally hell bent on making the same train, to the same station, at the same time; Amy Lynn Steele felt glad to just have a seat as she plunked herself down on the hard plastic and watched the outskirts of Boston zip past. She had done it now for the past sixty five days, and while she was beginning to get used to the routine, she was also getting used to seeing the same people aboard the crowded train.
The woman beside her was one of the people she often commuted with, but unlike the previous days where the woman scowled, or talked business too loudly on her cellular phone, today she smiled. Amy was not sure if that came about because of the bright summer weather Boston was experiencing, or if it was her change of attire. Shedding the typical neutral colors of her knee-length skirt, blouse, nylon stockings and high heels, Amy noted that instead she wore a pink and white sundress that looked airy and light. She was about to push herself forward a bit to see what the lady had on for shoes when the woman helped her investigation by crossing her legs. It was done nonchalantly, but Amy was shocked at what she saw. The woman was barefoot.
For Bostonians, the local news media had been abuzz with Barefoot Day for the past several weeks. Some television stations claimed the day originated because of some boycott surrounding a major shoe manufacturer overpaying an athlete, while other stations claimed it was a nudist camp in Florida pushing their acceptance agenda. Whoever it was that first proclaimed the first day of summer to be Barefoot Day never expected so much controversy.
Immediately the television stations were overrun with Emergency Room Physicians, Nurses and Podiatrists calling for a ban on the day. Safety was their primary concern, but as with most issues in Boston, the more negative publicity the idea generated, the more popular the idea became. Fearing the worst, many hospitals added extra staff to their emergency rooms fearing a rash of foot injuries from having so many go without shoes. It was a hard point to argue against; Amy reasoned this as she looked down at the soles of her fellow commuter and noticed they were blackened from the grime of the city streets.
Yesterday the argument by the shoe defenders seemed so logical, but now Amy was not so sure. Looking around the train car she noticed two other bare foot commuters. Their demeanors were much like the woman sitting next to her, happy almost and certainly chipper. Amy had expected the barefoot people toiling about the city to be the college kids, or from more liberal backgrounds, never in her mind did she expect everyday working people to embrace the day so whole heartily.
As Amy contemplated the reasoning for their more inspiring demeanor, she thought it was perhaps because the day offered a fun change to a boring routine, or perhaps it was because the day offered freedom from society's unwritten dress code. Either way Amy's own high heeled pumps suddenly seemed cumbersome. Deep down inside Amy knew her high heels were not bothering her any more than normal, but as she got off the train and walked the two blocks to her office building, kicking off her shoes and going barefoot for the day began to sound appealing.
Stepping into the main lobby, Amy departed from her usual routine of heading straight for the elevators and whisking herself straight towards her office. Instead, she side-stepped in the lobby and approached a small alcove filled with several plush loveseats where clients could be met in a comfortable atmosphere.
Finding a seat on one of the leather couches, Amy set her briefcase beside her as if she was preparing to meet a client. Instead she crossed her legs, placed her hand firmly on her elevated high heel shoe, and slipped the uncomfortable shoe from off her foot. As she did so, the heel of the shoe ran across her beige nylons, making a zipping sound as leather ran across nylon. She looked around quickly to see if anyone had noticed the sound or what she was doing. Upon only seeing people steadily work their way towards the elevator, Amy was encouraged to slip off the second shoe.
It was the exact same procedure as the first shoe except that it required Amy to set her now all-but-bare foot on the floor. She was still wearing her nylons so the cool slate floor was tempered slightly. She was too preoccupied with slipping off her other shoe to pay much attention to the floor however. Even with both shoes off, Amy paid little attention to the floor underneath her meagerly dressed feet. That was because she was contemplating her next move.
After looking around the lobby one more time, Amy felt secure enough to slip her hand up under her skirt, find the hemline of her pantyhose and pulled them quickly down her legs. She was sure she had put more than one run in her stockings from her hurried removal, but scoffed at that small cost as she tugged them off her feet, the stretchy fabric making a slight snapping sound as she hurried to stuff her shoes and pantyhose into her briefcase.
It was only then that Amy felt the full effects of her actions. The slate floor of the lobby had been no doubt buffed to a bright polish by the night time janitor, but with nightfall also came the cool chilly air of early spring. Completely barefoot, Amy felt every ripple in the natural rock flooring, and felt the coolness well up into her feet. She also saw the contrast of her bare feet and the natural flooring, her pale white feet, complete with bright red toenail polish contrasting greatly against the dark blue, almost midnight black, slate flooring.
Taking a deep breath, and knowing everyone in the office building would soon realize she was barefoot; and would be going barefoot for the whole day; Amy stood up and strolled across the lobby with determination.
No one seemed to notice until she found the elevator and rode it to her floor with her colleagues. Stuffed inside the square hoisting box Amy had to be wary of people stepping on her feet with stilettos heels and polished up penny loafers. True to tradition, no one spoke, but looked humbly at the floor as the floors whisked by with the audible beep that indicated each floor. Only one man seemed to notice her lack of footwear, and it did not escape Amy that this man strategically placed himself beside her no matter how many people got on or off the elevator. When she looked up to see if she could catch the man smiling, she was shocked to learn that it was her own boss.
Now that a few hours had passed by, Amy was not surprised when he paged her asking for her to meet him in his office. Amy took a deep breath, then turned the knob of her boss's door and slowly swung it open. She knew what he wanted to talk to her about, but decided to pretend like she did not know, and thus padded barefoot across the plush rug towards a chair on the other side of his desk. Amy feigned a smile then sat down, sitting up straight and tried to look professional even as she crossed her legs nonchalantly. As she did, she watched her boss's eyes follow her movements, his eyes never moving from the arch her bare foot made as her leg crossed over the other and then hovered her foot in mid-air.
"Thanks for coming in Ms Steele," he said handing her a single sheet of paper that obviously had been copied from another document. "Please read that if you would."