It took an act of Bedford (New York) to get me this photo. I do not want to talk about who had to get involved or what frayed old strings needed tugged in order to put this in my hands again.
It is one of those party photos one can never reenact or recapture. And it was a thing I will never forget: The gentleman in this photo, seated near me at the table, reached behind my boyfriend's chair; not clandestinely, no, not at all.
"You have beautiful feet." He said, and he touched my ankle.
"Ah, thank you." I said, a little hesitantly.
"And you always have great shoes!" He exclaimed. It happened so fast, then. A hand passed over my ankle and I felt the shoe fall from my foot. Then he did this. Not for a second, but long enough to get the photo, at least.
There was a long silence. I looked around at the rest of the faces at the table, took my shoe from his chewing teeth, put it back on my foot, and got up to dance.
"That never happened." I said to my boyfriend.
"Understood." He said.