A story about a man, a bank robbery and some shoes. lyrics Lawrence was a simple man. He wore a plain grey suit, Monday to Thursday. On Fridays he wore a blue suit and no one knew what he wore on the weekends. Lawrence worked at First National Bank, on Washington Street.He had worked there as a teller since completing university seven years prior. Although he always showed up to work on time, always had the correct amount of dollars, quarters or dimes, was always courteous and helpful to the customers,he was never promoted, never praised. It was as though he was invisible to his co-workers, his bosses even the customers treated him with an indifferent tone, no matter how much he extended himself. Lawrence had been comfortable in his routine at the bank, but lately a small feeling had begun to grow deep inside the recesses of Lawrence’s brain. He noticed that his mind had begun to wander at work. There were times when he would be counting a stack of money out to a customer and completely lose track of what he was doing. This was unusual for Lawrence and he had scolded himself for being absent minded. Lawrence lived in a small apartment with no kitchen. It was six blocks from the bank where he worked. Every morning he would walk the six blocks down Washington Street while eating a banana. He would throw the banana peel away two blocks from his home in the garbage can sitting in front of Don Carlos’ Fine Leather Shoes. On this particular day. Lawrence was tossing the peel into the can when something in the window of Don Carlos’ Fine Leather shoes caught his attention. He walked over to the window where he saw a pair of black patent leather wing tips, with a pointy toe and lifted heel. They were sparkling in the morning sun. Lawrence couldn’t help but admire the fine stitching and the way they looked as though they were made from an exotic black chrome. The shoes continued to twinkle when Lawrence realized he had been peering into the window for some minutes and would have to jog the remaining blocks to get to work on time. The next morning Lawrence stopped again to look into the window of Don Carlos’ Fine Leather Shoes. He did this for the next two days as well. He couldn’t say what it was about this particular pair of shoes, but they were all he could think about. He had said to himself, “Those shoes wouldn’t go with my suits. They’re much too shiny. People would laugh and think I was trying to be some kind of dandy... But they are a handsome pair of shoes”. So on Friday while walking home from the bank, Lawrence went into Don Carlos’ Fine Leather Shoes and purchased a pair of size ten and a half pair of black patent leather wing tips with a pointy toe and lifted heel. He didn’t wear them out of the store but spent all weekend analyzing himself in the mirror. He liked them, unmistakably, but they just didn’t feel like they belonged on his feet. Despite his reservations, he decided he would wear them to work in the morning. The next day, as Lawrence was eating his banana and walking down Washington street, he felt that every one on the street was examining him. There was an unnatural stride to his steps and the self-consciousness was palpable. He made it to the bank and almost ran to his window behind the counter. A co-worker saw him enter and immediately noticed his new footwear. She called to him, “Wow Lawrence, I like your shoes. They make you look... different” Lawrence didn’t know how to take this compliment, nor any compliment for that matter. His face turned red and he turned back to his work, pretending to do math in his head. Lawrence tried to stay focused on his job, but he was unsure of himself and his new shoes. At 9:48 AM, Lawrence was lost in thought, mechanically counting out bills to an older woman in a flowered coat and a hat. Two men burst into the bank wearing black masks and holding what appeared to be pistols. Lawrence looked up and saw the scene unfolding in front of him, but it took him some time to register what was happening. The taller of the two bank robbers was shouting for the customers to get on the floor. He was waiving his pistol erratically from person to person. .He wore a black, military style jacket, green pants and a pair of decrepit black boots. The shorter one was wearing a similar military jacket and pants, but was wearing dirty white Reeboks on his feet. He came around the counter and told all the employees to come out. Lawrence and the other tellers obeyed, as did the bank manager. They all laid down on their stomachs holding their breath with fear. The taller one appeared to be in charge. He told the short one to keep an eye on everyone while he emptied the tills. The short one replied “OK boss” and gave a slight chuckle. The boss went behind the counter and started stuffing bills into a black garbage bag while cursing and grunting like a pig looking for a hidden apple. Lawrence was lying on his stomach with his face turned to the left side. He could see his watch and as he waited, he counted the seconds ticking by. At first, it was something to focus on. To see how long this nightmare would last. But then it kept ticking on and on and Lawrence began to wonder what was taking so long. The shorter robber was apparently thinking the same thing when he called out “Hey Boss!" Just then, from outside the bank, a voice through a megaphone began explaining the obvious. The short robber began to pace and mutter to himself. The taller robber came bursting out of the back and pointing his gun in the air. They knew they were in trouble but there weren’t going to give up yet. They began to devise a plan in which they would pretend to be hostages by exchanging clothes with people in the bank. Arrange the release of said “hostages”. Get outside and run for it when they got the chance. Lawrence was not the only person lying on the floor who immediately recognized that this plan made no sense. The short robber swung his eyes over the people lying on the ground. His attention was caught by Lawrence’s new pair of shoes. He walked over and grabbed hold of Lawrence’s foot, but Lawrence instinctively kicked free. The robber tried again and Lawrence again jerked his foot out of the way. The robber hugged one of Lawrence’s legs while trying to pry the shoe from his foot. The other robber saw this scene unfolding, ran over and grabbed hold of Lawrence’s other leg. Lawrence writhed and kick liked a man possessed. As the three bodies heaved and strained, a can of tear gas came crashing through the glass front door. The swat team came repelling down the columns of the bank. Officers with weapons drawn streamed in from every direction. In the confusion, Lawrence pulled his legs free, with both shoes still attached to his feet. He crawled away as the police fell upon the two robbers entangled on the ground. Lawrence quit his job at First National Bank that day. The change came just like that and he never went back.He bought some new suits that better match his footwear. He met a girl whom he plans on kissing someday. He even got a job working at Don Carlos' Fine Leather Shoes. And every morning, he laces up his black patent leather wing-tips, with a pointy toe and raised heel. And he walks the two blocks down Washington Street, with a confident stride. His head held a little higher, while eating a banana.