Craven Gets Addressed

“You’re shoes are too tight.”

“”What?”

The janitor ran his mop over Craven’s shoes and stood his ground.

“And they’re awful dirty.”

“Hey! Are you some kind of wiseguy?”

“Wise enough to know you don’t start your day in a pair of dirty shoes. You want to make it in this city you need a little spit and polish, let the world see how much you care about the little things in life, like comfortable shoes that don’t make you cringe like you’re walking on a hot tarred roof. Do you think anyone has any use for a cringing detective who goes out into the world in cheap shoes and no socks.”

“I got socks. They’re peach colored.”

“They look invisible. Like your tie.”

I’m not wearing a tie.”

“Oh. Then you must be about to take out the trash. Because the only time a man should be seen without a necktie is when he’s taking out the trash, or when he’s out in the world showing how little respect he has for humanity. Look at me. I spend my day mopping hallways and running rats and winos out of the building, but I wouldn’t think of doing any of those things without proper neck wear, and neither would those winos—a decent lot—most of ‘em.

“Look at the one I’m wearing, Mr. Danger. It’s got Lana Turner in an Easter bonnet for spring; I can almost smell the daffodils and hear the buzzing of the bees. I also have Rita Hayworth in a sensational splashy swimsuit for summer; Lauren Bacall in an arousing orange cashmere sweater for fall, and Veronica Lake in an over-sized fur coat—sitting on top of an igloo—for winter. And I swear she’s winking at me from that one eye that ain’t covered with sultry blond hair. I treasure them all. I suggest you march yourself up to your office and dress proper. And wear a hat. A man without a hat is like a country with no purpose. Before you know it people will be walking about in any old thing they’ve a mind to—like an unsupervised four-year-old. Do you really want to go out in the world looking like a four-year-old? Then you may as well stuff you pocket with Jacks and a rubber ball and say to heck with it all. Wear a beanie for all I care.”

“I just come down to pick up my mail. Now step aside. You’re blocking the mailbox.”

“In that case, you should at least wear a smile.”

Photo courtesy of Wiki Commons: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Veronica_Lake_(Sullivan%27s_Travels_(1941)).svg