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passing time (and a few bricks) in stall three, i listen to the shoes entering and leaving. from behind the stall walls, i can see nothing but my sense of hearing is sharp and enhanced much like a blind person.
squeak, squeak...
rubber soled loafers, size 10, slight limp, 185 lbs - dan from accounting.
oh yeah, i am that good.
this leads me to a new criteria for buying shoes. size, style, and comfort are no longer important. most important is what sound the shoes will make when walking on the tile floor in the men's room.
my current shoes are the worst. patrons of the stalls must assume i am a fly fisherman on break. my shoes sound exactly as if i am wearing waist high wet river waders.
on second thought that assumption may not be completely inaccurate, after all i am standing at the urinal fishing some thing out of my fly.