Robert Corey

"5 1/2, 6, 6 1/2, 7. Black and brown at opposite ends. Work shoes at the top, dress shoes at the bottom." Every day for 13 hours a day, Robert Corey organized shoes. Every morning he woke up at 5: 27 AM and without opening his eyes, he would walk into his closet and stretch out his hand. He would walk back and forth among the 5 long shelves of shoes, gently brushing his finger-tips against each shoe in turn, a meditative caress. Thirty-three minutes later, he would choose the perfect shoe. 5 minutes later, after dressing, he would perform the sanctified ritual of slipping his left foot into his left shoe, followed by his right, putting on each shoe with a sigh. Taking care to not scuff his shoes, he would then drive to work at the Penny Loafer. 

When he arrived at the Penny Loafer he would begin by organizing all the shoes in the giant show-room, starting in the children's section and working his way through to men's. He loved to touch the shoes, to feel their different materials against his skin, to handle and hold them. He would position all the shoes perfectly in their boxes so that they fit comfortably, while still showing off the style. He would arrange them by size, style, color, heel-height and designer in a perfect and obsessive organization. When he was working nothing and no one could disturb him. 

When he had finished with the show-room, he would move into the enormous warehouse-like stock room, where he would repeat the ritual. Nothing gave him more pleasure than smelling the scent of new shoes, following the shoe's stitching with his index finger, or letting the shoe rest in his caring hand. No customer of the Penny Loafer would ever see this back room, but every night he would fall asleep dreaming of the beloved shoes in perfect rows. Robert Corey loved no one in his life so much as he loved shoes. 

At the end of the day, Robert Corey would say good-bye to the shoes and return to his home. He would carefully remove his shoes from his feet, polish, clean and caress them before putting them back in their proper place. Before turning the light out on his shoe closet, he would tell his shoes good-night, with a promise of returning in the morning. One minute later he would get into bed, three minutes later he would be thinking of shoes and seven minutes later he would be asleep.