Saturday evening as I went to exit the Manhattan bound side of the R train at Union Street I happened to look down and spotted a black tennis sneaker laid out perfectly – with exception to it being in the middle of the subway turnstile, and missing its mirrored opposite.
I’m sure that you’re saying to yourself right now that this pictured sneaker is turned on its side, and there’s a very good reason for this – I tripped over it.
I’m a klutz, what can I say. I’ve been one ever since being an adolescent, and haven’t been able to break from the klutz chains since.
Anyways, I spotted the sneaker, laying there perfectly under the turnstile, as if the owner of the sneaker was in such a rush that as they ran for the R train, they literally ran out of their sneaker – and didn’t realize it until the subway doors closed. So I giggled to myself about the poor sap who lost his sneaker while rushing to catch the subway, and in doing so I stumbled myself through the turnstile and tripped over the sneaker in the perfect Chevy Chase fashion.
So there you all have it – I’m a dork.
Yet this doesn’t explain who the dork was that lost his sneaker…
I’ve seen this before and I’ve always wondered how one person ends up missing ONE shoe. During the winter, I was walking from Atlantic Ave. to BAM for a movie, and sitting in a snow drift was one boot. It’s the middle of freakin’ winter; it’s snowing. How do you lose a boot?
who loses a shoe, honestly!