Pigs Feet

Perhaps the title is a bit harsh, but I can’t stand those who arrogantly put their feet up on furniture, especially when it isn’t even theirs.

It was noonish, on a peaceful Sunday, when I breezed into the library’s sacred reading room, thrilled no one was there as I got cozy on the couch.

Suddenly, the door swings open as if it were a saloon, and this very handsome guy, all of 30, swung in like a matinee idol.  Dark wavy hair, a chiseled face right from Rodin’s studio, dressed part Brooks Brothers, part Tom Ford, two parts trust fund.  But who could hold that against him?

After making an Academy Award entrance, he flopped himself next to me causing my cushion to visibly rise.  I kept to my book, figuring he’d settle with the papers he collected as if they were solely his, clearly needing attention.

He slipped off his Guccis, slid d0wn as if he were drag racing , with his feet up on the old, revered coffee table.

Boy, did my Connecticut light go on.

“Please don’t do that!” I said, surprising even me, the way it flew from my mouth.  Who was I channeling, Emily Post?  He quickly put them down, a lock of hair jumping out of place saying, “I’m sorry, really.”

Of course then I felt like a shrew, his apology lessening my scorn.  We then sat side by side like kids who, by accident, saw the other naked, three deep in discomfort.

He was truly a great looking fellow, though a poster boy for the unconscious, entitled elite…half my age, and as I said to my pal Peter, in theory…what would I do with him… shine him with a shammy…color? He was like a luscious pastry in a bakery window you glimpse, but pass right on by because, is he truly worth, all those calories?

Peter said yes, I said no…trust me…I don’t care how great he looks, he, along with his feet, were a hefty handful.

That’s what comes in your 6th decade, wisdom with a twist.  You’ve been to the rodeo before, so you know…is it really smart to ride that bucking bronco that will tear the skin right off your ass, not to mention mark up your coffee table?

All I can say is…

alas…thank God for books.



About Susannah Bianchi

I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves. My eBooks, A New York Diary, Model Behavior: Friends For Life and Notes From A Working Cat can be found on Amazon.com. Thanks.
This entry was posted in Books, Connecticut, Fashion, humor, men, money, New York City, readng, sex, Women and men, words, writing and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

20 Responses to Pigs Feet

  1. micklively says:

    If he’s taken his shoes off, where’s the harm? How is a foot significantly different from a hand or an elbow? I’m no bacteriologist but I imagine it might be a lot cleaner.


  2. Hira says:

    Oh yes .. this annoys me too. very much. I once had a visitor in my apartment, a friend of my sis-in-law who herself was visiting us from different city. Her friend , after some time of mingling sat on my sofa and up goes her feet on my coffee table even . Grrr ! I was so annoyed but didn’t say word coz she was a guest. How can anyone be so impolite!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. skinnyuz2b says:

    Susannah, I wouldn’t want some stranger’s stocking feet as the centerpiece on the coffee-table, either.
    Pookie’s and my chief complaint along those lines is family members waltzing across the living-room and into the family room with work boots on. To add insult to injury, they then plop back in a recliner and put their work boots on our furniture. My honey points out that he doesn’t get to do that and it’s his house! We’ve always taken our shoes off in the mud room.

    Liked by 1 person

    • It’s another form of unconsciousness I’m afraid Skinny. I like when people take off their shoes when they visit. Some do it automatically, some you need to ask.

      Work boots…oh my.


  4. I got stuck at why was he reading at a library when he probably had a fabulous apartment overlooking Central Park? I’m not a feet person either but he seemed to get comfy fast.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Young and sassy. Many people belong to that library who never venture in the reading room. They get family memberships, so his parents may have been members. I had never seen him before. Believe me, he’s so handsome, I would have remembered. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Elle Knowles says:

    Yes, you are right Susannah. It’s rude. I found when I moved to Florida most people remove their shoes when coming inside. Even guests at my house do so automatically. The reason being not to track the sand in that’s everywhere. I still have a hard time remembering to remove my shoes at the door, but I would love to get in that habit. Maybe I should tape a sign on my door to remind myself! ~Elle

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Patricia says:

    I wouldn’t put my feet on someone’s furniture especially a table. But I always put my feet up on the sofa or curled up in a chair, shoeless of course…at home. I don’t mind if people do the same when they visit me. As far as taking my shoes off when I visit…only if I have socks on. My feet are like ice cubes in minutes without shoes or socks even in summer. I will remember to wear socks if I visit you. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Yeah, that would bother me too, although I think it’s worse to take off your shoes, since then people can smell your feet. Actually, I still have a thing about wearing shoes in the house. In Newfoundland, where I grew up, as well as in Korea, shoes in the house were strictly forbidden, so it’s hard to get used to here.

    Liked by 1 person

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