Same prompts, different story.

Just in case you were curious as to what they were, I’ve listed them again below:

• Your story must begin in some kind of queue.
• Your story must include the words CROSS, DROP and LUCKY.
• Your story must include a map.

This is the one I didn’t enter into the competition (see Reservations – 1st Draft), even though the only feedback I received was that people preferred this one over the other one. I’m like that sometimes. It was inspired by some recent conversations I’ve had with a couple of my co-workers, who for some reason have all of a sudden become low level athletic footwear enthusiasts.

The reason I didn’t submit this one, aside from writers being limited to one entry every month, was that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the Yeezy and Foot Locker references.

Have a read and let me know what you think.

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“Your call is important to us,” said the voice on the other end of the line, and even though he could accept this statement as logically accurate, the 45 minutes and counting that he had spent listening to incessant hold music, intermittently interrupted by the disembodied voice, had served to work him into a state of advanced agitation, whereby the only thing he truly believed in the moment was that all businesses and everyone associated with them were nothing more than vicious, soul-consuming monsters whose sole purpose was to ruin his life.

It was his own fault. He didn’t need to be on the phone right now. He didn’t even want to be on the phone, but he did want the latest pair of Yeezys. He wanted them more than he could remember wanting anything. He wanted them so bad that he had dedicated every single waking moment of his life for the past week, save for when he had to eat or use the bathroom, to finding a way to purchase this particular pair of shoes.

He wanted them so bad that, since the drop was first announced almost 6 months ago, he had taken every extra shift and all the overtime that was available in order to save up enough money to be able to afford them, and he refused to spend any of that extra money on anything that wasn’t absolutely, completely, 100% necessary.

He wanted them so bad that he lined up all night outside the biggest Foot Locker store in the city just so that he had a chance to purchase them. And unlike the other people in the line who had come prepared with bean bags and blankets, warm jackets and scarves, he had stood there in a regular jumper and jeans, fixated on a map on his phone that told him the location of not just every Foot Locker, but every other shoe store in the city.

He wanted them so bad that when morning came and the store finally began letting people in, he was so happy that, had he not been surrounded by scores of avid sneakerheads, he would have burst into tears. And then, when the doors to the store closed just 10 minutes later, when there were only two people between him and his goal, he buried his head in his hands and let the tears come, no longer concerned with who could see him.

So, despite considering himself to be a rational, reasonable person 99% of the time, the past 45 minutes of phone time was merely the most recent of a string of encounters that had left him angry and embittered. He could barely contain the indignation he felt at the idea that he might miss out on these shoes.

“Thanks for holding, how can I help?” Said the voice, and his building frustration disappeared in an instant. He was no longer bitter; he was no longer cross. Today was going to be his lucky day.

James Farish-Carradice