Clomping and shuffling

As I took a drive yesterday I happened to pass by a building which was erected in the late 1970s. I know that because I remember being there as it was built, me Grandpa Joe having rented welders to a contractor who was working on it.

I still remember quite clearly my last day there, when I was picking up the last welder Joe had on site. We were cautioned that no one would be on premise for whatever reason but that it would be okay to get the machine. Joe sent me and another fella, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, to fetch it.

The building at the time was complete yet there was still apparently interior work to be done. It was empty of furniture and furnishings, and Cloyce and I were left to wander the halls and rooms looking for me Grandpa's welder. That's when I first realized that Cloyce didn't pick up his feet as he trudged along. He literally shuffled.

This echoed throughout the place. Shhh, shhh, shhh, shhh, Cloyce shuffled along behind me. It was driving me nuts: shhh, shhh, shhh constantly. But as I was 17 and he was an adult, I was slow to ask him to pick up his feet. I was yet intimidated by adults and didn't feel I ought to complain, even vaguely, about what they did.

Yet after endless shhh, shhh, shhh bouncing off the walls I was ready to bounce off them too. Finally screwing up my courage I asked politely, timidly, "Uh, Cloyce, could you pick up your feet as you walk please?"

"Oh, sure, Marty, I'm sorry." I'm certain he didn't realize what he was doing and was genuinely concerned. So he started to pick up his feet as we searched for yon Hobart welder.

That may have been worse, because as it turned Cloyce was a clomper. Clomp, clomp, clomp now echoed around the empty building, fraying my already tense nerves. By then I really didn't want to say more. I didn't know what I could say anyway.

We eventually found the machine, at the far end of the building from where we entered. Cloyce volunteered to get the pickup and bring it around, for which I was eternally grateful. Nothing sounded better than his clomping dying out as he went to get the truck. It gave me a chance to calm myself.