He came and stayed with me and, when I went to pick him up from the airport, it was not my father who first caught my eye at the arrivals gate.
It was the racing car red pair of trainers that were wearing him as he walked into the building.
'Pop, what on earth are on the ends of your legs?'
'Oh, these are great. They're the most comfortable shoes I've ever bought. They're brilliant.'
'They'd be brilliant if you're shooting hoops with your homies in East L.A, but I don't think any self respecting arms dealer would be seen dead in them.'
'I don't give a stuff what you think. They're comfortable, I'm wearing them.'
I had blissfully forgotten all about these shoes until last night. I was sitting in an airport lounge, equidistant from three things dear to my heart, the bar, the food and the news when I spied a pair of iridescent cobalt blue trainers.
Now, these trainers were in a totally different league to the ones my father used to wear. These guys had the ability to out-glow the sun. They were truly sensational.
You can't get your hands on a mirror ball for your next party? No problem, string these puppies from the ceiling and you'll be away laughing.
After my mind stopped with the shoes jokes, I took in the person: muscular, tanned, with tucked in polo shirt. I was just coming to the conclusion that the overall look could be described as preppy when I realised that this man was staring at me staring at him. And he was vaguely amused by it. He smiled at me and then went back to filling up his plate.
I smiled at him and went back to my magazine, feeling like a schmuck.
About fifteen minutes later, I was coming back from the loo and he was coming in directly the opposite trajectory path. He smiled at me again, and adopting the Seinfeldian School of Thought I immediately thought he was thinking, 'I know you like my shoes, don't you?' And I promptly continued to have an entire shoe conversation in my head with him, all by myself, as you do.
When I got back to my seat, it was bugging me that this guy was vaguely familiar.
It wasn't till I was on the plane that I worked who he was.
I'd have never thought I could say my father and Steve Williams could go shoe shopping together.
7 comments:
Maybe at this moment on his blog he's saying "and I finally worked out who she was - she's the one off the telly that does all the mad things".
No, he wouldn't have been recognising me, I think he was thinking, 'How did the scruff get into the airport lounge?'
Seinfeldian heh.
I chatted once to a French guy in Geneva airport as we were both waiting on a flight to Dublin. About eight years later, we bumped into each other in Madrid waiting on a plane to Dublin!! And he never actually lived in Dublin, both times were business trips.
And I thought you were going to say Tiger Woods.
Going to see your fellow countrywoman (is that a word) in Dublin tonight. Do you know Ladyhawke?
Ohhh she's fab. Don't know her personally, but you know New Zealand, wouldn't have to dig too hard to find someone who knew her.
Well she was great. They nearly didn't make it because of snow. Dublin was all snowed out and they had to fly to Belfast where someone offered to drive to Dublin which is about two and a half hours away. So they did it! or should I say 'dud ut'. She was great, I really enjoyed the gig and the band seemed very happy. They have a big following here anyway, place was jammed.
I imagine it would be a great show.
Re: 'dud ut', I never could hear a New Zealand accent, and it wasn't until I was living in Tokyo and I saw a news story where a New Zealand cop was speaking - I was gobsmacked - simply couldn't believe that was what we sounded like.
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