"I bet I know where you got dem’ shoes." A voice from the sidewalk interrupted.
Chris and Erin opted for an evening in the French Quarter to bar hop, people watch and eat.
"Yeah, I know where they are too," Chris dismissed, as they strolled past the street barker.
Erin laughed; "at least you were nice to him, most locals tell em’ to fuck off."
"Yeah, so do I sometimes, just depends on my mood."
One of the simplest, yet longest running, sidewalk cons in the French Quarter is the “Shoe Bet”. On any given day or night, a tourist will encounter one of many local performers or hustlers, all vying for a cut in the deep pockets that usually accompany visitors to Bourbon Street.
Some performers are quite legitimate and hard working; the occasional mime, street artist, tap dancer or musician dots the French Quarter...all plying their talents for a generous tip in exchange for 3 to 4 minutes of entertainment.
The “Shoe Guys” are a different breed.
The con goes like this: The guy authoritatively says to the tourist:
"I bet I know where you got them shoes”.
Now, since this is the oldest con out there, one would think that word of mouth would have completely destroyed this gimmick by now. Yet, one can usually find an easy mark. Perhaps a first time visitor, a drunken college kid or someone who is otherwise utterly gullible...Sometimes all three in one. Darwin’s theory in action.
"How could this guy POSSIBLY know where I got these shoes?" one might ask.
He assures you that, for a small wager, he can, indeed, tell you where you got your shoes...Finally, the hook is placed, firmly in mouth.
After forking over the money, the “shoe man” makes good on his promise.
“You got dem’ shoes on Bourbon Street in New Orleans, Louisiana."
Score! Another satisfied customer. You see, the key to this con is word play. Shoe man never said he could tell you where you bought the shoes, just where you got em’. As in where they’re firmly planted, on a street with rod and reel dangling above a gullible head.
And so, many a reveler finds themselves standing in said shoes with their wallet slightly lighter; the price paid for playing...Next contestant please.
After a quick bite to eat, Erin and Chris continued their stroll. It was a beautiful night and the convention that had just hit town brought thousands of visitors to the Quarter, making for prime time people watching.
Conventioneers typically have but one mission: to do things which they’d never do back home; the amazing powers of mobile alcohol is indescribable.
Whomever invented the “to go” cup should win the Nobel Prize. A cheap plastic cup, filled with alcohol. Add balconies, beads, controlled chaos and you’ve got yourself an uninhibited exhibit of raw human indulgence.
Deciding that it was time for a break in the action on Bourbon, Erin and Chris walked toward a more serene part of the Quarter, the riverfront. They ducked into Café Du monde for coffee and beignets...Basically fried batter, doused with a heaping pile of powdered sugar. As a precaution, never wear black pants when eating beignets.
"Oh look!" Chris pointed with the excitement of a 12 year old. "It's The Telescope Man!
Many nights, just outside of Café Du Monde, you’ll find The Telescope Man offering passers-by a glimpse to the heavens with a telescope that's so large it seems as though it should be affixed to an observatory rather than a street corner.
The telescope man constantly tweaks, aims and focuses on celestial bodies, barely visible to the naked eye. Young or old, one can hardly help but stand in awe, gazing through his powerful lenses. Minds are transported to far away places a million miles away, all for a small donation to take a peek.
"Can you see your anus??" Erin interrupted Chris' star gazing study with a giggle.
"Wow," Chris dead panned. "I bet he’s never heard that one before," he quipped, removing his eye from the lens.
Later, Chris and Erin found a quiet spot overlooking the Mississippi river.
"This seems familiar," Erin pointed out. "Back on the river, where we had our first date," she smiled, reaching over to hold Chris' hand.
Chris stared at the river, the waters were swift and constantly in motion, carrying riverboats, barges and the occasional piece of debris on its back. A never ending cycle of forward momentum, powerful and unstoppable.
His thoughts focused inward as he studied the powerful, yet mesmerizing forward motion of the river before him. It briefly transported his thoughts back in time:
"We never got a chance to be friends in the beginning," the haunting words echoed through Chris' mind as they'd done so many times before.
Chris flashed back to a conversation between he and Erin which took place over a year ago.
"We jumped right in before we could enjoy one another for who we were," Erin reasoned.
"We can enjoy one another Erin, but we cant do it if you won’t at least spend time around me," Chris assured.
"Chris, I need some time to date myself, and maybe other people; you do too. Then we can regroup and do this better," she explained.
"Date yourself, other people and regroup?" Chris scoffed. "That's what high priced relationship therapists, swinger clubs and masturbation are for."
"Very funny. Look, Chris, right now I’m not too thrilled with people of your gender, understandably, we've gone through too much..."
"So, you're turning gay?" Chris interrupted.
"Yeah, that's it Chris...I'm turning gay," Erin sarcastically returned.
"I'm just pissed that you’ve gone out with Tim," Chris confessed with a sigh.
"We’re just friends; we’re not dating or goin’ out or anything. Look, I can’t explain this, but no one can give me what you give me; I don’t know if there’s anyone who can. For all that we’ve been through, we somehow still have a strong bond and I really believe that we can make it back to a romantic point in a healthy relationship...but not yet," Erin explained.
The grand romance era had ended in Chris and Erin’s relationship. They went out occasionally, but there was no hand holding or other romantic overtones; just a quick peck on the cheek or pleasant conversation, maybe a movie on the couch.
In retrospect, Chris surmised that Erin had either not been truthful about Tim or that things hadn’t yet progressed to an inevitable point. Chris simply didn’t know for sure but he was finally tired of dwelling on it.
Chris wondered how on earth she could possibly want to spend time apart and date? How could she be saying that there’s always a chance for a renewed relationship, when her actions didn't fit the words? How does THAT work? He scoffed.
Sitting next to Erin in the here and now, Chris pondered their past, staring deeply at the river. Women and men, he rationalized, are indeed built differently, or so he’d hoped.
Guys are more immediate and succinct; it’s not possible to do this or do that; it's black or white. Women tend to have a different thought process. It’s not a black and white world. In Erin’s mind, love was stronger than Chris had credited.
How in hell did Miss Joyce and her husband ever make it all those years? Chris wondered.
The riverboat horn propelled Chris’ mind back to the moment.
"Whatcha thinkin’ bout?" Erin broke the silence.
"I was just thinking about how quickly things moved in my life for a long time; kinda like this filthy river in front of us" Chris shared.
"Not really," Erin corrected.
"What? You don't think that river is filthy? Chris joked.
"Ha! Why do you think I drink bottled water?" Erin smiled before clarifying her previous comment.
"I used to think the same way you do Chris. But sometimes you gotta zoom out and look at a bigger picture," she continued.
"Kinda like Google Earth, only not as frustrating when it won't let you zoom in any closer?" He tried to deflect deep conversation.
"Don’t be impatient," Erin warmly advised.
"Slow and steady wins the race huh?"
"Correct," Erin agreed.
"You ever think much about the past?" Chris casually pried.
"Yep, but I try not to dwell on it."
"You ever think about your ex?" He continued his light interrogation.
"Yep, but I try to think of good things about him now." She responded, matter of factly, especially peaking Chris’ interest.
"Do you think you’d ever, under certain circumstances, consider getting back with him?" He hesitantly asked, waiting for an answer with the anticipation as that of someone who's about to receive a flu shot.
"I think so; yes...no offense to you, but I have to be honest," she replied.
"What’s the certain circumstances?" Chris pressed.
"Well...my ex needed some time to grow, time to get some things out of his head so they wouldn't continue to creep into our relationship. As a matter of fact, so did I. I’m still quite hesitant and I get nervous sometimes about the past," Erin continued. "I’ve just learned to not let anyone rush me anymore."
"Kind of scary how two people can go from having a strong bond to a thin one, don’t you think?" Chris doubted Erin's take on things.
"That’s in the eye of the beholder; the thickness of the bond, that is," Erin replied.
"What scares you?" Chris prodded.
"Losing control of my life. I've learned that there’s room to love someone and be with them without losing one’s own identity; I never realized that until I really thought logically about it," she openly resolved.
Miss Joyce couldn’t have put it any better, Chris thought.
"What about you?" Erin turned the tables.
"What?" Chris defensively replied.
"Would you ever get back with your ex girlfriend, under the right circumstances?"
Chris stared at the river for a moment before answering. He thought about what Marie had told him with regards to taking one's time.
"Yeah, I think so, under certain circumstances; no offense to you," He finally answered.
"What’s the certain circumstances?" Erin asked.
"No shortcuts," Chris quietly replied, beginning to face hard truths.
The evening found Chris and Erin back in the serenity of Erin’s front porch. Chris faced the living room window for a moment looking at the cat who was peeking from behind the blinds.
"She’s curious," he pointed.
"She’s not the only one," Erin affirmed, looking back to Chris with a smile.
"I’m not sure about something," Erin wondered aloud.
"What’s that?" Chris tilted his head, wondering what Erin was thinking.
"If someone changed to make you fall in love with them again, how do you suppose that actually works? How could they change, to be the person that you fell in love with??" Erin asked.
This question especially caught Chris off guard, given his unique circumstances. He thought very carefully before answering, finally understanding a lesson that had been hiding in plain sight. A lesson he’d never noticed in his previously clouded mind.
He searched Erin‘s eyes and then directed his focus on a nearby streetlight, giving his reply.
"By not trying to change to be the person that one fell in love with. I believe that a person should start by changing things for themselves, changing things about themselves if necessary. To do things that make them a better person and to be a better person to themselves and to others." Erin clung to Chris' every word.
"I’m told that if love is strong enough, and you fall in love with em’ again as a result, then it’s meant to be," he concluded, turning to face Erin.
"Slow and steady wins the race huh?" Erin added.
"Yep; it‘s just that simple," Chris assured with a warm smile.
"I had fun hangin’ out with you tonight Chris."
"Me too." Chris pulled Erin close and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips.
I'll talk to you tomorrow Erin."
Chris briefly glanced back and waved as he walked to the car.
copyright Pontchartrain Press 2008
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