written by Unknown author
original source of the story was Unknown source
Let me tell you more about the bookstore where I was hanging out,
looking for women to step on my fingers. I saw a woman with fancy
grey metal colored pumps with 3.5″spiked heels. She wasn’t that tall, and every time she took a book at a certain height, she stood on her toes, lifting her heels. What a chance to put my fingers under her. I began looking books at the other side of the corridor, and put my fingers on the spot where her heels would come down.
The first time, she put her foot down, she slid off my finger. I saw
from the corner of my eye that she looked down, and as always, I left my hand there, waiting if she’d say something, but she didn’t. She lifted her heels again, and I held my fingers together under her mighty heels.
Suddenly, she came down on my fingers with such a force! She slid
off, and a piece of the skin was ripped off at the side of my finger.
My finger was bleeding slightly. But I left my hand where it was. And what did the woman do? After a moment she stepped back several inches, with the heel right on the middle of the upper side of my hand. Now I was certain she knew she was standing on my hand. After that she raised the toe of her shoe and gave a twist on her heel. Man was that painful but I didn’t say a word.
Then she stepped off, raising her heel again while she reached for another book. She stood there for a rather long time, as if she was waiting to see if I dared to put my hand under her heels again. I was so hard, but my hand hurt like hell, it was already bruised. And because I understood that this woman who didn’t know me, and didn’t give a …. about my hand, I didn’t put my hand back under her heel.
Anyway, my hand hurt for several weeks, and remembered me at a great moment.
10-Oct-98