by "S"
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Brian was just about to finish his 90 day probation period at this furniture company I used to work for.
He had just turned 20 when my boss, Jess, hired him for the early shift--that’s 4am. We had no luck keeping a guy on this shift for months, and I think Jess did it out of desperation more than anything. I was against it because Brian was just a "kid" to me. But, he actually showed up and did pretty good since he was all of 5'9, about 170 pounds, brown hair, baggy pants, large t-shirts, and always the same pair of sketchers-your basic "skater-kid".
But he had been late twice--once was15 minutes, the other time was a half hour--both excuses each time was his car. If you saw his car, you'd believe it. An old beat up Nissan that you could hear a block away that belched smoke every time he started it and turned it off. Only "new" thing about the car was Brian's skateboard he kept in the back seat for break time.
It was Thursday morning, 4am, raining like hell and the semi that brought sofas, chairs, ottomans--anything wrapped in fabric for a living room, it was there. Now we had two outside storage units in back that we used for overflow …mostly big stuff like this. Usually, Brian and I had it all done by 8am when the main warehouse guys showed up. This day it was going on 5am. I've got boxes of shit everywhere under a tarp that was leaking in the dark, and luckily the driver gave me a hand in getting the boxed furniture off the truck and under the tarp. He left, and still no Brian--it's 5:20am now. I'm pissed, and ready to open up the storage units myself when I hear his car coming.
He raced into the parking lot, slammed the door and ran over to me under the tarp. Out of breath he tells me he locked his keys in the car last night and had to break in to get them. Only problem with that is even though the car’s old, the way the locks are set-a wire hanger isn’t going to do it. I told him this was his third time being late, and I'd have to tell Jess. He got pissed and said it wasn’t his fault. He also said that he couldn’t be fired for an accident. I told him I wasn’t going to argue about it, we'd talk to Jess later. I just wanted to get all that shit out of the rain be done with it. Brian just gave me a pissed look and said,” fine...whatever man."
Not even a half hour later I'm getting the next load of sofas ready for the storage units, and, through the pouring rain, I hear what sounds like Brian yelling. So, I leave the dolly, and head back to one of the units that have its door half open, where Brian was working the last time I saw him. Still dark, and really dark in those units as there are no lights, I open the door, and pick up Brian’s flashlight off the ground. Brian says, "About fuckin’ time!!!" I shine the light up to the voice, and all I see is a pile of boxes that once were stacked neatly along the wall of the unit. Brian yells, "C'mon!!! Get me the fuck outta here!!!" I'm shining the light, and seriously not seeing him anywhere, I ask, "Where are ya??" I hear a thud, thud over to the center of the mess, and all I see is the sole of a Sketcher, toes down toward the ground, and the beginning of a white sock that disappears with the rest of his body under big boxes. He was pinned on his stomach under several chairs in cardboard boxes!
Brian, more irritated," Well now that ya friggin see me, can ya get me out...LIKE NOW??!! This shit’s heavy!" I agreed to start un piling the mess, but as I sat the first box down, I saw something on the floor of the unit--a water bottle. I picked it up, knowing it had to be Brian’s, but I never knew him to take water with him to work in the units. Brian, wiggling his foot, barely,” Jesus!!...can ya get a move on man???!" Listening to my impatient coworker, I opened the bottle, and realized it was vodka, not water. I close it, and put it in my raincoat.
I asked Brian, "So how'd you manage this anyway??" Brian, must have had a beat red face, "Who fucking cares ‘HOW’!? I was stacking shit up, and before I knew it, it came down. Ya know, cardboard turns to shit when its wet old man...now can I get the fuck out??!" Speaking of water, Brian, I see ya have a bottle out here with ya. Brian, beyond irritation, "I don’t believe this shit!!! yeah, and so??" I said, sitting on the only box I had pulled from above him, "Its not water."
There was a few seconds of silence, then Brian started "You can’t prove shit! It could've been some other guys. I'm NOT getting booted from this job by you or anybody else!!”
“ You were drinking, probably did last night too, and caused this whole big ass mess that ‘I’ have to get you out of and that ‘we’ have to clean up.”
" You can’t prove shit."
Brian could be a little dense sometimes, so I laid it out for him, "The security camera at the gate is time coded so Jess will know exactly when you showed up, I've got a water bottle with vodka in it, and there’s no way a ‘coat-hanger’ opened your car for ya. There’s also no one else here, and they check these units every night before they close down, so, I doubt they would've ‘missed’ a bottle of water. You're good as done kid."
There was a pause, unusual for Brian, and the only reason he was pinned was because he was little, not like he was being crushed or anything, so I had time to wait.
Then Brian changes tone a bit and says, "I need this job man … Ok …I cant lose it now... can we just drop it ... I fucked up, ok, you happy?"
I said to Brian, "Give me a good reason why I should let this go and keep quiet."
" Because I need the fuckin job!! Christ!!!...look...I'll work overtime for free...I'll friggin’ clean up your shit and mine, whatever, just don’t tell Jess!"
I heard the kid, and wasn’t so sure what was coming out of his mouth would really happening, at least not after a month or so. I sat there, watching his shoe twitch, and then I thought of something perfect for a smartass kid--an attitude adjustment along with a deal to keep my mouth shut.
Brian, sarcastic,” I’m not hearin’ any damn boxes moving Mike...whets up?" I got up, surveying the situation, and decided to lift the box directly on top of Brian first, and said, "Okay, I'm going to lift this box that’s on you, when I do, straighten out your leg like the other one." Brian, "What for?"
I, knowing he has a "dead zone" brain sometimes, "Ya want to take a chance on smashing your knee side ways incase this load shifts??" Brian,” Hell no...I'm ready." So I lifted the box just enough so the other sketcher popped out, then I let the box down. I pulled the box I was sitting on directly next to both his shoes that would occasionally twitch, and had a seat, with the flashlight shining up towards the ceiling of the unit so I could see better. Brian, frustrated "What the hell are you doin???..." I said, looking at the bottoms of his well-worn skater shoes.
" Thinking for a minute.”
"ABOUT what??!!!! goddamn it...move this shit already!!!"
I said, calmly, "I'm going too, but first we need to have a chat."
Brian, livid, "NOW??!!!...friggin’ with me like this???!!! Are ya fuck'n wacked???"
“ I'll forget this whole thing ever happened-the booze, being late, this mess ya made...all of it. Not a word to Jess."
A long pause, then Brian says ,"You will...whets the catch man...there’s gotta be one here somewhere."
I said matter-of-factly, "How long you had these sneakers anyway?"
Brian, confused, "Like two years...whets that got to do with it??"
I continued, "Looks like ya never take 'em off"
Brian, confused and irritated, "I wear 'em everywhere...even in the house...I skate...you can figure that out, right? Now can we get me standing on my feet instead of you asking 20 questions about my fuckin’ SHOES??"
“ If you answer one question.”
Brian, at the point of explosion, "Ok...what fuckin’ ever...what?"
I reached over and started untying one of his shoes, and said,” You willing to make a deal? To keep this morning between you and me … you keep your job.?"
Brian, feeling the double knot coming undone, "What...what the fuck are you doin now??!"
I let the laces drop limp, and said,”Untying your shoe. You up for a deal or not?"
Brian, confused, just wants out of the situation, "Yeah …deal ...whatever...I agree...ok? Now can I get the fuck outta here?"
As I tug on his shoe to slip it off, "Good."
Brian, alarmed, "Wha...what the fuck are ya doing??!!"
As I slip the shoe off, dropping it to the floor, "Taking your shoe off."
Brian, his toes wiggle a bit, "Well no shit!!! What for???" As I started to pull his ankle sock off, "Its part of the deal that you agreed to."
Brian, his foot wiggling a little, "What...huh?? What are you talking bout man??! What "deal"??"
As his bare foot dangled, bout a size 9, smooth and even pink in some spots, not a callous to be seen, I said, "Never agree to a deal unless ya know what it is kid. But that’s what ya did, and this is the deal." Brian,” What, taking my shoes and socks off??? What, ya gonna make me work bare foot all day?? Freak."
As I put my hand around his whole foot and held it, not moving at all, "That’s a good idea, but I have a better one."
Brian, startled by the feeling, "Hey!!!...what are you doing’??!!!...Let go of my foot asshole!!!"
So I did, but I did it to where my hand slid of his very soft foot slowly.
Brian, wiggling his foot what little he could, startled ”Are you crazy??!!! Get me outta here homo!!!"
Now I knew I had a worried ticklish smartass in front of me. I replied, "Not till we finish the deal."
I then just took a single finger and slowly ran it under his toes. They immediately jumped, and Brian, with a crack in his voice, "Hey...w-wait a minute man...this shits not right...w...what deal we talkin’ here...m...man?"
I took one finger and ran it slowly down the center of his foot. Brian, nervously, voice cracked a little more for a second, as I watched his toes uncurl,"H...hey...no man...no deal...not this shit...no way."
I said, matter-of-factly, "What "shit" Brian??"
" That shit...messing with my... feet...put my shoe on and get me the fuck outta here now!" I went ahead and ran one finger in a circle slowly on his heel which was pink. Brian, nervous, demeanor changing,
” Hey...god damn it!!!!...w...what...stop that shit!!!!...s...sstop it...n...now!!!"
I knew by the break up of his words it was close to laugh time, so I stopped. I asked,
" Stop what shit Brian??"
Brian, knowing he's in a situation, "W...what you were doing...you fuckin’ know what I mean old man." I never liked the term old man. so I took two fingers and ran them slowly around his toes. Brian, wiggling, yelling "Damn it!!!!...stop it!!!!...get the fuck a...a...waay from me!!!!"
But I kept it up this time and asked, "Stop what Brian??"
Brian, with the first giggle creeping out, "My t...toes...stop...t...touch'n them!!" I kept doing it, "Touching them??" Brian, cracking more, "YEAH!!!...s...s...stop it...m...an...I...ha...I mean it!!!!"
So I did, and said, "You mean tickling your toes, don’t ya kid?" Brian, nervous, pissed, maybe a bit embarrassed, "No...touching...I don’t like being touched...there...is all."
I started untying his other shoe, he jerked, I said, "I'm going to keep "touching" your feet for a bit until I think the deal is struck kid."
Brian, as his other shoe slips off, "What?...you cant do that shit...I'll get you on sexual harassment ...or...or something...I mean it!!"
As I pulled of his other sock, I said, "So do I". So I started to take both hands an each one ever so lightly touched the sole of each foot, never making full contact, but enough to get Brian worried.
Brian, as his toes curled,” NO!!...Ddd...don’t do it!!!...ss...stooop...this shhiiiit ...OK...OK!!! I...ttt...t...TICKLES...it fucking tickle ...ha...huh...sstop...Mmmm...ike...hehe...p...pleease!!!"
So I did, noticing he used my name and said please. A big achievement.
Brian, nervous, "Ok...so ya know...just don’t fuck with my feet anymore...I'm way ticklish there...my brother used to do that shit to me."
I said, "That’s the deal, I tickle your feet for a bit, we forget being late, clumsy and drunk."
Brian, like he was going to be shot, "Oh man...c'mon...I mean...that’s torture... I gotta keep this job."
I said, "Doesn’t have to be torture, just a reminder. Lots of different ways to tickle."
Before Brian started debating it again in fear, I started to slowly lick the toes of his left foot. Brian, as if electric shocks were going through him,
" Woo...h...hey...hehe...thats...c...craazy...eeeee." His toes wiggled slowly, which allowed me to get in between them, thats when Brian would give a chuckle and say, "Hey...hehe...now thats ...tt...ickling...c...cmon.lemme...heheh...go..."
I stopped on the left foot, moving to the right, "Yeah, but it wasn’t bad though, right?"
Brian, confused,” Well...naa...not like my brother would do...still tickles...how much longer before the deals done?"
I said, slowly licking the sole of his right foot, he now laughing more than giggling and saying his favorite word "fuck" every once in awhile, "Not too long kid, you got small feet."
