Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a shoemaker in Foxrock is like a rollercoaster ride. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s barely up, and I’m already thinkin’ about the pile of shoes waitin’ for me at the shop on Brighton Road. Ugh, the smell of leather and glue. It’s like my morning coffee, but way less pleasant.
First thing, I step outta my flat on the corner of Killiney Road, and bam! Rain. Just my luck, right? I mean, it’s Foxrock, so I shoulda seen it comin’. The clouds were lookin’ moody, like they were ready to throw a tantrum. I’m dodgin’ puddles like I’m in some kinda obstacle course.
Get to the shop, and guess what? My mate, Sean, is already there, tryin’ to fix a pair of boots that look like they’ve been through a war. “Dude, what happened to these?” I ask. He just shrugs, like it’s no biggie. “Customer said they were ‘just a bit worn.’” Just a bit? More like they’ve been through the Foxrock marathon!
So, I’m workin’ on a pair of fancy loafers for Mrs. O’Reilly from down the street. She’s a sweet old lady, but man, she’s got a thing for sparkles. “Make ‘em shine, love!” she says. I’m like, “Sure, Mrs. O’Reilly, I’ll just sprinkle some fairy dust on ‘em.” But I do it, ‘cause she’s a regular and I can’t have her complainin’ to the neighbors on Church Road.
Then, outta nowhere, this kid bursts in. He’s like, “Mister, my shoe’s broken!” I look down, and it’s a total disaster. The sole’s hangin’ on by a thread. I’m thinkin’, “How do you even do that?” But I can’t be mean, so I say, “No worries, buddy. I gotcha.” I fix it up, and he’s grinnin’ like he just won the lottery. Kids, man. They’re so easily pleased.
Lunchtime rolls around, and I decide to hit up that new café on the corner of Foxrock Avenue. You know, the one everyone’s raving about? I walk in, and it’s packed. I mean, who knew Foxrock had so many coffee snobs? I order a flat white, and the barista looks at me like I just asked for a unicorn. “You mean a latte?” she says. I’m like, “Nah, I mean a flat white, lady!” Finally, I get my drink, and it’s worth the wait. Smooth, creamy, just like my favorite pair of shoes.
Back at the shop, I’m feelin’ good, right? But then, the door swings open, and in walks Mr. Thompson. He’s the kinda guy who thinks he’s the king of Foxrock. “I need my shoes fixed, and I need ‘em now!” he barks. I’m like, “Dude, chill. I’m not a magician.” But I take his shoes anyway, ‘cause I can’t afford to lose a customer.
As the day drags on, I’m fixin’ shoes left and right. I swear, I’ve seen every type of shoe imaginable. From stilettos to wellies, it’s all in a day’s work. But then, I get a call from my sister. She’s in a panic. “I locked myself out!” she wails. I’m like, “Why do you always do this?” But I can’t leave her hangin’, so I grab my keys and dash outta the shop.
I race down the streets of Foxrock, dodging cars and cyclists. I’m thinkin’, “Why is everyone out today?” Finally, I get to her place on the other side of the village. She’s standin’ there, arms crossed, lookin’ all dramatic. “Took you long enough!” she huffs. I roll my eyes. “Next time, just bring a spare key, okay?”
After rescuing her, I head back to the shop, and it’s nearly closing time. I’m exhausted, but there’s a sense of satisfaction in my bones. I love this place, even with its quirks. Foxrock’s got character, ya know? The people, the streets, the little cafés. It’s home.
As I lock up for the night, I can’t help but smile. Tomorrow’s another day, another pair of shoes to fix. And who knows what else Foxrock has in store for me? Bring it on!