The shoelace shop keeps a saucer of tip-sized handshakes, each no larger than a seed, so a lace can meet its neighbor before anyone asks it to work. The keeper says a knot that has not been introduced first comes out shy and slightly crooked. After the greeting, both tips nod to the boot, and only then may they tie themselves once.
We asked at the stall by the cobbler's window. A man with a brown pair under his arm said he used to yank both ends at once. "They got their names mixed," he added. "Now the left one says hello, the right one answers, and the bow sits down as if it had been invited." In the thank-you notebook a neighbor had written: "Please do not tug. The aglet on the sunny side likes to finish its nod."
By the next afternoon the same man came back. The boot still held yesterday's courtesy, a little more open at the ankle, and one handshake on the saucer stood ready as if another walk might yet be due.