Red Socks

He sat on the large wingback chair to the right of me.  An ebony coffee table, a sure hint at the prestigious nature of the club in which we sat, between us providing a glass surface to support the aromatic, rich foamed coffee filled cups.  A plate filled with light little puffs of pastry that melted in the mouth was placed nearby.  His immaculate black suit broken by a perfectly starched white shirt and bright red tie contrasting perfectly with the deep red crushed velvet upholstery that covered the chair.  Perfectly polished shoes peeked below the hemline of his trousers barely concealing the bright red socks that covered his feet.  A ROLEX adorned his right hand and a single gold bracelet his left.  His hair combed back and beard well groomed and strong jaw completed the picture.  So perfect was its execution that it would no doubt be the envy of every of any reputable fashion magazine.  He lifted an eyebrow and in an instant a butler materialised with the humidor from which he selected a delectable cuban cigar.  He carefully snipped the end and placed it between his lips, reached for a long wooden match and proceeded to light it.  The sweet aroma of the cigar filled the air as he puffed it to life.

"I could never understand how people miss the myriad of opportunity which surrounds them", he said exhaling.  

"Life presents such great opportunities for making it big.  Look at me I started out my life collecting cool drink bottles to make a few bob", he said puffing on the cigar.  

"Times have changed and the world has changed", I said.

"But that does not diminish the opportunities in fact, I believe that there are more opportunities than ever before.  What has changed though is that the light of the human spirit has diminished and few look hard enough to find opportunity and even fewer have the drive to relentlessly pursue it. I'll be the first to admit that this is probably the hardest in the face of failure, but none if not very few, have ever failed in their pursuit."

"And what do you think is responsible for this lack of human spirit?"

"I think it is the way we deal with the future generations.  Instead of encouraging them we tend to throw life at them as a result of our own needs and wants and this clouds their minds to such an extent that later in life they hope that opportunity will be thrown at them, and even if we do they cannot see it for what it is"

Our conversation was rudely interrupted by the insistent ringing of his cell phone.  He grabbed the phone and after a short quite conversation announced that he had to leave.  I contemplated the conversation we just had while sipping at my coffee.  

I stepped out onto the sidewalk and made my way to the car.  A beggar stepped before me holding out his hand and the guilt of the luxurious indulgence, which I had just partook in, saw me place a R10 note in his hand.  He thanked me profusely and I, lifting my hand to indicate that I had dispelled my duty, opened the car door and got inside.  I looked in the rear view mirror as the beggar stepped down the road in the opposite direction and I could not help but notice the bright red socks which seemed so out of place peeking out from his broken shoes.