Work boots

MISS SHOBAN’S DIRTY BOOT LICKER

The local gas station was owned by an East Indian named Shugrat Kholsa Singh.

Julie and I worked in the local supermarket. We'd been reasonably friendly for a number of years, though were never going to be bosom pals. Our relationship had become quite special though. I was now like a shoeshine boy to her and on several occasions had served as her full-time slave. It was a very satisfactory arrangement. And how that had begun?

It had started one Saturday evening in the back warehouse of the building. We were working the late shift and fooling around, clearing stuff up. I was brushing up some fruit on the floor that had got crushed by the heavy pallets that had been pulled through the warehouse earlier that day. I bent down to pick up and apple that was clinging to the dirty ground, when all of a sudden, Julie stepped up in front of me and trod straight on the apple, crushing it further into the floor.