I associate concrete boots with the likes of underworld gangs or the Mafia. However, this one is a funny story.
You know how it is when you reach your late teens and early twenties. Always trying to impress the girls, (speaking from a boy/man point of view). Trouble is at that age, you never quite seem to have enough money to do the things you’d like to do. A fancy car, big house, tailored clothes and the best leather shoes. The best I could do was buy a second-hand velvet suit with a pair of re-soled brogue shoes. It got me by and I had many a happy Saturday night dancing away in the local disco’s.
A Car Salesman
My friend, Bob was a different kettle of fish. He was a year older than me and always had the latest fashionable clothes with top of the range shoes. A proper smart guy always dressed up like a dogs dinner. Strange thing though, the girls never seemed to take much of a fancy to him. I don’t know if it was his overconfident attitude, his braggishness about he always dressed to kill or he was just not fanciable! He was a car salesman, which was ideal employment for his cockiness.
The local Goddess to us lads was a beautiful girl by the name of Bev. What a stunner and she knew it. Most of us had tried to arrange a date with her but were never successful. I knew my advances would be rebuffed because apart from my velvet suit-wearing thin at the elbows and the curry stain on the lapel I had very little money. Anywhere we would have visited would have meant going by bus. Certainly not good enough for Bev! You can imagine how shocked we all were when Bob said he was taking her out on the following Saturday.
He Done Got Himself A Date
Bob’s job as a car salesman meant he had access to a new car for his own enjoyment every week. So, he asked Bev in his usual spivvy way if she’d like to spend the day with him and he would chauffeur her around to see the house he was thinking of buying. It was, of course, complete nonsense, but Bev couldn’t resist the thought of someone who might be a step up the ladder from the bottom rung taking an interest in her.
The weekend came and Bob had his date with Bev. We thought we’d never see them again. We were wrong and although we didn’t see Bev for a long time, we saw Bob the next day. He had picked Bev up around midday and taken her to a small building estate where they were building half a dozen or so exclusive 5 and 6 bedroom homes. The yarn that he had spun for her was that he had put a deposit down on the first house on the small estate. The builders had been putting the finishing touches to it when they arrived in his company car.
To make Bev think it was genuine, he drove straight into the garage as the doors had yet to be fitted. He was confident the builders had finished at noon. They both jumped out of the car and ………. splodge!!! They were up to their ankles in wet concrete. The car tyres were covered too and of course, the freshly laid garage floor now had tracks of a car through it. They both had to get back in the car and reverse out of there and fast. Can you imagine the mess in a brand new car that concrete would make? Their shoes were ruined and so was any future relationship with Bev that Bob might have had. He lost his job at that car sales company and I think he lost a little pride too. I don’t recall seeing Bev again, although Bob was soon back to selling cars and being a spiv.
If you ever do get concrete in your car, here’s a link to clean it off.