Real Love: The Barefoot Corporate Executive

by JamesW
(Chicago, USA)

A corporate exec who turns into a barefoot janitor, for love

He comes home from his long day at the office: the powerful, dignified, distinguished corporate executive who seems to have everything any man could want.

He steps in quietly, knowing his wife is asleep. It is five years now since the depression overcame her, changing her, robbing her of joy. She sleeps most of the days and cries most of the nights.

He enters the room and kisses her. She sobs and hugs him.

"The kitchen..." she says, pain in her voice. "I spilled the juice. I...I couldn't clean it up. I'm sorry..."

He sighs and whispers: "Don't worry about it..." and leaves the room.

He opens the door to the kitchen and shakes his head: orange juice covers the floor with a sticky film. It splashes on to the walls and dribbles across the room.

He has ten minutes before he must leave to meet a client for dinner. He looks down at his Italian business suit and his silk necktie, his starched white shirt and the mirror-shined black leather shoes on his feet. He steps into the goo and his shoe sticks.

He hears his wife sobbing softly.

He sighs again and says out loud: "These will have to come off..." and glances at his feet.

He unties and slides his right foot out of his gleaming shoe and peels off one black silk sock. He follows with the other shoe and sock. He places them on the floor outside the kitchen. He takes off his designer watch and his monogrammed cufflinks and places them in one fancy shoe. He rolls his expensive socks and puts them in the other shoe, followed by his keys and his wallet and his chunky business school ring. His wedding ring remains.

The pinstriped corporate executive with the perfectly knotted tie places one bare foot in the sticky mess and walks to the sink. He fills it with water and pulls the mop out of the closet. He finds the floor cleaner and pours it in.

Quickly he begins to mop and regrets his decision to leave his suit jacket on, as his arms are not as free as they should be with the mop.

The man who commands a dozen employees and arranges million dollar deals is now a barefoot janitor for the sake of his wife.

His shoes are polished containers filled with his corporate identity. Here in the kitchen he is a custodian, stripped of his executive trappings.

The juice sticks to the soles of his clean feet and when he finishes the job, he washes them off. He dries the floor with paper towels under his feet. She may get up and fall - the floor cannot be left wet.

He picks up his shoes and steps noiselessly through the house on silent bare feet. He looks in the bedroom and finds her asleep.

He steps out the door and walks to his Porsche. He places his shoes on top of the closed garbage can near the street when he realizes he forgot to lock the door. He comes back to find a grinning garbageman holding the shoes.

"This must be the fanciest garbage I've ever seen!" laughs the garbageman and stares at the barefoot corporate executive. "You planning on throwing these out?" and he holds up the silk socks and the Rolex.

The garbageman continues to joke: "You don't look like the type who walks around in his bare feet! I almost took these nice shoes with me! They're just about my size..."

The executive smiles nervously and sadly, then takes the shoes and their expensive contents.

"I just wanted to relax" he says. No one knew the full story of his wife's anguish and no one wanted to know.

The garbage man laughs again and leaves as the executive pulls on his silk socks and replaces his cufflinks and watch and wallet and ties his shoes.

He leaves behind his sleeping wife and a very clean and shining kitchen floor.