In the process of cleaning his room, Zucker takes his Nike sneakers from the center of his room and places them in his closet. The other clothes and jackets are surprised and curious about the shoes, both covered in a strange foulness.
~ Jesus, kids, what happened to you?
– Oh wow, what day is it?
= It’s Saturday.
– The second?!
~ What the hell happened, Nike?
– Oh man, our head.
• Give them a minute, Houndstooth.
There were bits of vomit and grit on the bright white laces and brown suede bodies of both the left and right Nike Air Force One sneaker. Together they embodied the pain of the hangover instilled in the stains of funky yellow and red.
~ Is someone gonna’ clean you up?
– We don’t know. He took his orthotics out of us.
= Yeah, that means he won’t be wearing you anytime soon.
• Shut up, Adidas, you’re not helping.
= Yeah well neither are you. Get up and do something about it!
~ Everyone shut up. Now Nike, what happened out there?
– It was actually quite fun for a little while…
And the Nike Air Force Ones told the jackets and wardrobe about the New Years Party in the North End, a bacchanal with friends of Zucker’s that ended disastrously. They told them about the booze and the mixers and the h’orderves and the party hats, the ties and the suits and the dresses. Some girls really pushed the fashion bar, some others were down in their own. They told them about the girl who came with another, her style and her body the prize of the party. They told them of when the ball dropped, and when the champagne pushed Zucker over the edge. His feet told the shoes of the thoughts in his head, his apprehension and patience and fear for the worst as he drunkenly stumbled from the couch to the locked bathroom door, knocking tactlessly to gain entrance in front of everyone still there.
= Holy shit, they were having sex in the bathroom?
– Yeah, with the girl he was hitting on the whole night.
A wave of boos and hisses fill the wardrobe in disapproval.
= What kind of shit is that?! That shit just doesn’t happen, Nike! I should have been there; Zucker would’ve been on top of his shit.
– It was a fancy party, Adidas. It was no place for a sports liner. The Victorinox wool coat did just fine.
= Shows what you know.
– Where is Vic, anyway?
• He’s not here.
– Oh, no. We don’t know what happened to Vic when we left. We hope it’s alright. Damn, it was embarrassing…
The Nike sneakers went on to explain the bathroom situation.
– The guy came out of the bathroom first, and said, ‘Give her a minute.’ Zucker gave her three seconds and went inside. She was still putting on her clothes. ‘What’s wrong,’ she asked, calmly and concerned – she talked to him all night – and before he could answer, Zucker made his point clear all over the toilet and floor. ‘Oh, wow,’ the girl said, as if impressed by the grotesque beauty of Zucker’s raw presentation. Quickly and scared, she vacated the bathroom, with clothes in her hands and her hands over her mouth. We remember Zucker’s friend, Ryan, coming in to assist us shortly after. He brought forth the mop and cleaned up the floor. Zucker and we sat helplessly on the towel bench. We exited the bathroom to less people than before – no faces remembered – and the party was officially over.
~ Shit, Nike. That sounds like a pretty messed up party.
= I can’t believe that girl ended up screwing some guy in the bathroom!
– Yeah, we can’t believe it either. He was trying so hard to get close to her.
• I bet it was her boyfriend.
– That makes sense. He showed up late too. We don’t even remember what he looks like.
• Yeah, definitely the boyfriend.
= Hey, Camel Hair, who gives a hell who it was?
• I’m just saying!
~ She probably wasn’t right for him anyway. I mean, who has sex in the bathroom anymore?
= I do.
~ That’s great, real mature.
All of a sudden, Zucker came into the closet with more clothes and hangers and began to make a lot of commotion. He rearranged boxes and clothing and belts. He took his golf clubs out and cleared up the space around it. The Victorinox wool coat came in and was hung on a hook above all the other hangers.
+ Ah, you’re doing alright then, Nike?
– We guess… we thought you got left behind.
+ No, I was around. Hey everyone, what’s going on?
= Your guess is as good as ours.
~ I think he’s cleaning up.
* About time.
– Whoa, look out!
The Nike Shoes were moved around once again, this time next to other shoes not seen before. A mad flurry of movement occurred in the span of a few minutes, but the changes left them all hanging in awe. And somehow, even after Victorinox gave its side of the story – the twisted maze of city streets and cross walking, dry-heaving in alleyways in plain site to the world; helpless cab-hailings and directories on hold and even after blackout directions to the street of his house – everyone knew Zucker would be alright.