Dead Croc Walking

Oscar’s red boots attracted more attention than his James Dean pout and Rambo impersonation combined, genuine endangered crocodile tanned by hippie chicks deep in the Mojave. A thousand bucks well spent. At least that was what he told himself, how else would he justify increasing his debts to Aztec Finance.

Of course not all comments were positive. Being derived from endangered species they spawned much scorn from environmentalists, some even threatening violence of one sort of another. Not that it really bothered him. Crocodiles had been absent from his list of favorite reptiles ever since one bit him in Australia.

At first he wore them only on special occasions: theme parties, barn dances, certain nightclubs that allowed such apparel and to his sister’s 21st birthday. But the notoriety they secured motivated him to wearing them more often and even once wore them to the office. Management was less than impressed.

Oscar started downloading boot-related music: “Dirty Boots (Sonic Youth), “Ferries wear Boots (Black Sabbath), “Shinny, Shinny Boots (Velvet Undergrounds)” and of course the footwear classic “Them boots were made for walking (Nancy Sinatra)”. Mojave Desert Indians and marching crocodiles were regular guest-stars in his boot dreams.

A Jack Nickolson glaze replaced the former James Dean pout. He became convinced someone was scheming to steal the boots so he arranged another loan from Aztec Finance and had state of the art security devices installed. He even went as far as to buy a second-hand shotgun over the Internet.

Alone in his apartment Oscar sat night after night, cradling the shotgun. A slight breeze chilled his birthday suit but his toes were cozy in crocodile boots. Some called him paranoid and obsessive but he prefered the term "Boot Passionate."