The accounting firm we use has assigned a pretty young CPA to our account named Maria. Maria is about 35, married, 5 ft. 7 with raven black hair. She always wears a suit, usually with black sheer nylons, always with high heels. She is pleasant, but very business like. When we interviewed her firm several years ago, she was in and out of her shoes for nearly the whole interview, and I got a more than a few opportunities to glance at her feet under the desk. Naturally, I decided that they were the right firm for the job.
Maria comes to our office about 3-5 days per quarter. I usually set her up at my desk to work since I am out of the office a lot of the time. I have seen her dip, dangle, and once in a while, sit with one shoe off when she thinks no one is looking.
One day last year, I got back to the office from downtown just as my secretary was leaving for the day. She said that everyone had gone except that Maria was still in my office working. Perfect! From the front conference room, you can look right in through my office door. Quietly, I went into the conference room and looked down the hall. Like winning the lottery, Maria was sitting with her left leg and shoeless foot extending forward under the desk, only her toes touching the carpet. She was wearing dark brown stockings sheer enough to show that her nails were painted. On her right foot, she had a chunky three inch heel of the style popular with young women these days. She didn't appear to have seen me so I put my head around the corner for a better look.
Maria was rubbing her stockinged foot on the carpet in a distracted way, and was completely focused on the computer screen at my desk. I noticed that her shoe was not anywhere near her wandering foot. As I walked toward her, I didn't see the other shoe anywhere under the desk. I got within twenty feet of the desk before she noticed me. From close up, her foot was really beautiful with a graceful high arch, and slender toes. As I stared at it, she noticed my approach. Startled, she immediately pulled her foot back and tucked it under her leg in the oversized chair. "Busted" I thought but decided to play it cool.
"How's my favorite bean counter?" I asked, as I sat in the guest chair in front of the desk. "O.K.", she said, and relaxed a little, putting her foot back on the floor tentatively. I could tell she was unaware that I could still see her toes when I leaned back in the chair. We talked about business stuff for a few minutes and I pretended to look at files and papers in order to glance under the desk at her pretty toes.
"You're working late" I said. Maria seemed very nervous. There was no sign of the missing shoe but she didn't seem to search around for it either. After another few minutes of business talk and glances under the desk, the answer came.
"My shoe got locked in the file cabinet," she said, so softly that I could barely hear. I laughed out loud and she was not amused. "It's not funny", she said. "I have been sitting here for hours with one shoe. I didn't go to lunch. I didn't even go to the ladies room because you have to walk through the front office and out into the hall to get there. My feet are cold, and I've never been so embarrassed. The receptionist said that you have the only key to the file."
"Did you tell her your shoe was locked in it?" I asked. "I'd rather die," she replied seriously.
Still laughing, I asked, "How did your shoe get locked in the file cabinet?"
"Can you please unlock it?" she asked, ignoring my question completely.
I went to the front office and returned with an enormous ring of keys that belongs to the janitor, knowing for certain that none of them would open the cabinet. Maria stood anxiously next to the file cabinet balanced on one shoe, with her bare foot hidden behind her right ankle. As I tried the first of many keys, I repeated the question. After what seemed like a long time, Maria shifted her stance and stood ankles together, bare left heel off the floor with her stockinged toes extending to lightly brush the carpet, her left hand on the corner of the cabinet for balance. "I was talking on the phone," she began, " and leaning back in your chair. The file drawer was open several inches and I rested my heel on the top edge. I must have leaned back too far because I lost my balance and nearly tipped the chair. As I pulled my leg back, my shoe caught the top edge of the file drawer and it fell in just as the file closed."
Somehow, I managed not to laugh, and slowly tried more of the janitors keys in the lock, my face less than 3 feet from her exquisite stockinged foot. "The drawer is never locked," I said, and wished I hadn't. Maria stared down at her bare foot for a long moment and quietly said, "I must have locked it. I was rubbing my foot on the lock button and pushed it in by accident." I continued to try keys I knew were incorrect, stretching the minutes and gazing at her exposed toes. One of the keys bound up in the lock, and sensing an opportunity, I made a great show of pulling and shaking the drawer, but making very sure not to pull it out. Maria was looking very concerned, and somewhat agitated by now. I went to the utility room and when I returned with a pair of pliers, Maria was sitting back in the chair with her foot tucked under her, looking dejected. I knelt in front of the file blocking her view of the drawer, and purposely twisted the key off in the lock.
Maria jumped from the chair at the sound. "Oh no, oh no, no, please noooooo. Please," she said, "Please get my shoe out! Please. I need my shoe..." her voice trailing off.
I was startled by the level of her distress. "I could call a locksmith," I offered weakly.
"There isn't time," she said, nearly shouting. She began to pace back and forth, more agitated than ever. "I have to meet my boss and some prospective clients downtown at 8:00. I have to catch the 7:20 train to the city. What am I going to do?" She continued to pace back and forth, her silky heel held high off of the floor. At each change in direction, her bare toes ground into the carpet displaying her lovely stockinged foot from every conceivable angle.
Feeling somewhat remorseful, I said, "There is a shoe store in town, right across from the train platform. I could drive you there, buy you some shoes, and you could still catch the train." We nearly ran from the building, Maria striding ahead in her one brown shoe, her heel and sole flashing at me as I followed. She walked purposefully out the front door and crossed the parking lot to my car. I took in her silhouette, standing outside in the chilly night air, bare toes dangling over the pavement, while balanced on one shoe, hand on my car. I had never seen a more appealing women at that moment. We drove to the ten minutes to town and pulled up in front of the shoe store. CLOSED the sign said, and there was no sign of life was inside. Maria sat silently, looking ready to cry. "I'm just going to go," she said softly, and got out of the car before I could say anything. I followed her to the train platform and stood with her in complete silence. I felt terrible about the whole incident, but I couldn't help looking at her beautiful toes balanced over the concrete platform in the cool night air. My heart raced out of control as we waited.
The train came and went, taking Maria and her one shoe toward Chicago Union Station. I imagined her beautiful stocking clad foot, and the incredibly public spectacle she was providing for the passengers, and I wished I were onboard. As I drove back to the office, I imagined being one of the thousands of commuters at Union Station when fantastic floor show played out on the polished marble.
Arriving at the office, I worked the broken key out of the lock, and removed the shoe from the cabinet using the right key, which was in my pocket, attached to the car keys from the start. I set the empty shoe on my desk and started to shut down my computer when my eye caught something on the documents list of my start menu. I saw file names of jpegs I hadn't looked at in quite a while. Someone had been viewing shoeplay jpegs on my computer and it wasn't me.
On balance, I don't feel too bad about the incident. I believe that Maria was snooping on my computer, saw some shoeplay stuff, and decided to experiment a little. When she locked her shoe in the file, I don't think she considered or was prepared for the possibility that her shoe would be gone for an extended time, and I am sure she never envisioned herself riding the train downtown with her bare foot on display for the world to see.
She said her boss was really angry that she showed up to meet her new clients with one bare foot. She lied and told him she had lost her shoe on the train platform. She said that by the time she made it through the station, her stocking had worn through and her bare toes were exposed to the frosty city streets. On the bright side, the prospective clients she met were Japanese executives unfamiliar with American customs, and seemed amused and disarmed by the whole one shoe situation. They eventually signed on as clients with the firm. Maria's boss drove her home so she didn't have to ride the train again. When Maria made her scheduled appointment to our office several weeks later, I discretely returned her shoe to her in a paper bag.
Maria is still my accountant. We never talk about the incident but we both know. She does seem to display more shoeplay these days, and sometimes takes off both shoes, but she never makes any eye contact when her shoes come off. I would really like to talk about shoeplay and learn more details about the incident. Unfortunately, it's not really the kind of subject that you can bring up with you accountant.
After all, business is business.
Snowman