A Word of Advice

The next time you find yourself perambulating about downtown Chicago, specifically the North Loop, do your best to avoid the intrusive individual brandishing a 'ShamWow' and a rather questionable bottle of Kiwi Instant Wax Shine. Unfortunately, if for some reason your efforts of avoidance are futile, the following scenario may ensue:

The man in question may first catch your attention by offering you the most generous of compliments.

"Hey you, yeah you," he'll say, causing you to remove a headphone bud from your ear (big mistake). "Outta' er'body I see walkin' around down here, you gotta' be one of the worst."

At first, you will want to surrender to your instincts and take offense. It will be in hindsight that you will realize it was the moment you turned to confront this assertive salesman of the street that you crossed the threshold into the point of no return. Unknowingly, you have just opened a window of opportunity.

"Excuse me," you'll implore, sporting a sour face. It will be then that you will catch his eye and he will reveal his intentions. While simultaneously gazing down at your feet he will unveil the previously mentioned leather polish and chamois.

"Ah, shit," you will pantomime.

Uninvitedly, he will continue: "It's your shoes. You see, I'm out here on the streets for people like you who don't have time to sit in the chair."

After admitting your lack of interest in his services, he will surely continue to pry. He knew what was coming, it is your deficient attentiveness that he understands- I mean how many people that he interacts with really want to be hassled for a shining? This is where he goes to work and showcases a set of skills that makes you think you are witnessing a deleted scene from Glengarry Glen Ross.

"Oh it's all good man, I see that you're busy," he will persist. "Here, just let me show you what I use in case you want to shine 'em yourself sometime soon."

Lunging towards you he will apply the Kiwi to your right Ecco. Standing on a street corner outside of a 7-Eleven you will suddenly realize that you are being held captive, against your will, bounded by the cloth of a chamois over your right foot.

The hustler at your heels may then arrogantly taunt you by saying, "I bet you double or nothing the price of this shine that I can guess how many children your dad had just by looking at your two shoes."

With no time allocated for a response he will answer, "NONE, your momma' had all the kids!"

You at this point are clearly annoyed. You will be irate when the man, straight-faced, asks you for eight bucks for the shine.

"But I only have two," you will fire back.

"There's an ATM in that 7-Eleven right there."

"You're not serious," you ask as you look up to find his crew of con artists have creeped around the corner. "You are serious."

"Fuck 7-Eleven," you'll savagely say as you enter the convenience store.