From time to time the souk public footservant is confronted
by man socks as he kiss-respects man shoes. He must not baulk at his face’s
closeness to the socks, but rather must embrace them , as they are the socks of
his better.
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| A man strides determinedly towards the souk public humble head |
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| He stares disparagingly down at the slave - and rightly so |
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| 'Kiss my feet, old slave man!' |
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| 'Yes, master sir. At once, master sir.' |
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| The slave's feckless face is now confronted not just by dirty man-sneaker... |
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| ...but by sweaty man-sock! |
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| The slave's humbling view of his better's sock |
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| The well-trained slave does not baulk at either the taste of the stranger's sneakers or the smell of his socks! |
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| He is a public footslave of many decades' experience, and is well used to the aroma of male, as well as female, footwear! |
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| He has, after all, been kissing feet all his adult life! |
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| And he always will! |
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| The magnificent man-sir walks off |
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| Well might the souk public footslave hang his humble head in shame |
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| He's a nothing and a nobody... |
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| ...worth less than a superior man's socks! |
