How Was Her Day?
I would love to be permitted to be more sociable – to ask my customers how they are; about their plans for the rest of the day etc. But I am forbidden to speak.
Take the young woman who is brave enough to have stopped by me in the rain on a cold winter’s evening, in order to have her filthy dirty boots lickshined. I would dearly loveto be able to strike up a conversation with her – albeit a conversation of unequals, given that she is my infinite better. I would ask her how her day has been? Are there any particular parts of her boots she would like me to clean? Where has all that mud come from? And I would respectfully compliment her on her socks, as they look fabulous; plain grey cotton bootsocks with a bright, feminine-pink, upper trim – just stunning!
Of course, she might not wish to engage in conversation with me and simply tell me to shut up. But it would be nice to at least be able to try communicating with a beautiful, bright and intelligent young woman like this – other than just by licking her boots!
When she turns to walk away from me, leaving me to continue to get soaked in the pouring rain, not a single word has passed between us; only wet mud – from her boots into my mouth. On reflection, perhaps that is how it should be, for in truth I am not worthy to converse with a superior young woman such as this! I’m just a slave.
