In short, with this, "I remind you of the future" . There will be a point in time when you will see why that matters.
A few wooden boards were cut to length and, at the far end, to curvature, to fit underneath the stairs. The goal was to be able to put shoes there.
All boards were fitted, shape wise, then mounted to the wall using L-bars. These were bolted into the brick and concrete wall using plastic dowels.
While doing that, I went through a few Bosch drill hammer bits. Here, you see two of these that ended up with molten and deformed tips. They did not make it.
While I frummsed these holesies into that bit of flabby wall, before bolting the shelf boards into position, let us guess how that happened on a more visceral level.
What do you reckon.
I probably leaned against the drill hammer, at least just a bit? Maybe I pressed with as much force as I ever could muster. Also, while the passively protesting concrete did not just seem to yield and give way as much as it might have, maybe the drill hammer exceeded the mechanical behavior of, say, an electric tooth brush and actually hammered, screamed and vibrated violently? I did not think much of it, but the last time there was a soft, comfortable and imperceptible bit of motion a 700 USD prosthetic hand glove crapped out over 15 minutes of pansy boy car wash [link]. Not that a bit of pansy boy car wash is wrong.
 Erwin A. Koller, verbal expression.