Footsteps On a Wire
From the "Only In New York" file:
So, about a year ago I officially retired yet another pair of boots after literally running them into the ground for a good 16 months or so. They were standard black hiking boots, distinguished only by the little white stars I painted on their sides.
I thought it might be cute to throw them over a telephone line; about halfway down my block, there's a wire that currently supports a bunch of defunct and dangling shoes, so I figured I'd add mine to the mix.
Kept putting it off, month after month. I wanted it to go down at night, when there would be the least amount of possible witnesses. But alas, my street has become a busy one, with bars and all-night delis and people seemingly always on the street. Cops, too. Seemed like every time I went out there, planning to do the deed, I'd chicken out. After all, it takes several attempts to get a pair of heavy boots to successfully wrap around a telephone line 20 feet above street level (I'm estimating that height).
Then a couple of weeks ago I finally got tired of looking at my old boots, standing sadly by the door of my apartment. I was either gonna get them up on the wire or throw them out. I tied their laces together and took them down the block. It was late but people were still out, smoking and talking. I looked up at the hanging shoes over Metropolitan Avenue, then down the block. I finally decided I wasn't in the mood for hurling the boots up in the air, so instead I placed them on the sidewalk, against the wall of the nearest building, and left.
A few days later I walked out of my apartment building and happened to look up -- my boots are hanging from the telephone line right in front of my building.