The Shoe Salesman

By Bryan Clark

{Man enters a shoe store, empty except for a salesman behind a counter}

John: Hello, how are you this evening?

Eric: Oh, fine thank you.

John: (With disgust) Really.

Eric: Yes, I suppose...

John: Oh really. Hmm. Well that's all very well for you, then, isn't it? I mean, you being all fine and dandy, coming in here and ordering me around just because you think that a new pair of 170 dollar Nikes will cheer you up?

Eric: But I haven't even said...

John: Oh, but you will soon nonetheless. "Can I get these in a fourteen?", "These don't fit right" or "It's not wide enough", while I run around fetching things for people when it's not even my shift, just because a friend had to go to L.A. for a Megadeath concert, and left me stuck here waiting on imbeciles like you who keep accusing me of stealing their watches.

Eric: What? {Looks at his wrist} Hey, my watch is missing!

John: See? It's people like you who are driving me to insanity. How in the world do you people function? I mean, it's as if your hair-dye has gotten through your skull and poisoned your mind!

Eric: My hair's not dyed!!!!!

John: Yes it is!

Eric: How do you know?!

John: Your original color is on your driver's licence. Furthermore...

Eric: I don't even have one! You are more than trying my patience...

John: I'm trying your patience? You're the one without a licence, which is exactly the kind of sloppiness and carelessness that are the main cause of "El Niño".

Eric: I don't know how that has anything to...

John: Well of course you don't. It's way over your head! I would have to go into quantum physics just to begin explaining it, and I don't have the time. So, if you wouldn't mind, pay me the 170 dollars you owe me for the shoes and I can get back to work.

Eric: Fine! HERE!

{Eric Leaves}

John: Thank you...

{Lights dim slightly. John locks the store door. Eric runs back to the door and starts pounding on the glass}

Eric: Wait! You thief! I want my money back!

John: Sorry. No returns. {points to sign} See? All sales final.

Eric: I'm not returning anything! You made me pay for my own shoes! And my wallet's missing.

John: Of course! Did you expect me to pay for them? I'm not going to let some fool like you come in here all puffed up and pressure me with rudeness to let them have their shoes for free, and make me take the difference out of my paycheck am I? The nerve of some people. And how am I supposed to know where your wallet is?

Eric: It's in you're right hand! And I didn't buy these shoes!

John: Well, then you can't really return them, can you. We're closed, anyway.

{Curtain}