The Shine


“If you sit down and get a shine, you can ask anything you want until I’m done with your shoes.” He replied with a smile.

The reporter sat down and handed the kid a 10 dollar bill. As the kid went to work he asked his question.

“What’s the deal with your last customer? Do you know him?”

The kid replied as he worked,

“He’s a regular…comes by every day. Same suit…same shoes…comes by for a shine and to talk.”

“Is he homeless? Down on his luck? What do you talk about?” The reporter inquired.

The kid looked up at him with a strange look and said,

“I don’t ask. He tells me I give the best shine in town and he enjoys the company. I don’t judge my customers. I give respect..I get respect. He taught me that.”

“He taught you that? How? Is he a teacher?….I don’t get it?”

“Sorry Mister…shine is done. Questions are too. I don’t like to talk about people behind their backs…it’s rude….and it’s time for my break. Good day, sir.” He said as he nodded his head respectfully to him and began to pack his shine box up.

The reporter was miffed. He thought to himself,

“Who talks like that? Everybody talks behind everybody else’s back! How does he think newspapers and magazines make money? Give respect…get respect…? What is going on here?”

He decided to head down the block and try to catch up with Mr. Shiny Shoes.

To no avail, he found no sight of the old man.

He went back to the park and sat on a bench to try to figure out a plan.

Just as he was about to call it a day he heard a rustling from behind him.

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