Humiliating Episode #523:

I have a certain pair of sandals with a goofy wooden heel and absolutely no arch support.  To say they are tricky to walk in would be the understatement of the year; but they are so terribly cute and so I must.  Or so I thought until yesterday.

Yesterday I was wearing said shoes.  The clinic my mom works for is a sponsor of the Women’s Fitness Celebration and it was mum’s turn to man the booth.  Being the good daughter that I am, I offered to swing by and pick her up so she wouldn’t have to pay the approximate price of a small island to park. 

Being the lovely fall day that is was, I decided to detour through 8th Street Marketplace – meander about, do a bit of window shopping.  I had just checked to see how big my butt looked in the Urban Outfitters window when I realized something was terribly amiss.  That’s where things get a bit fuzzy…

All I know for sure is my ankle buckled … I struggled, I flailed, I yelled “S-ii-tt!” Only that’s not what I said. The next thing I knew I was on all fours, my purse flung to the ground in front of me.  Considering that a major event was going on directly across the street I was not lacking in spectators.  Like it wasn’t bad enough to be in such a position in the middle of a shopping district–but to be surrounded by people gaping in horror? 

You have GOT to be kidding me! 

Oh yes, I said it.  Out loud.  *sigh* 

Needless to say, from that point forward it was typical HRT (Humiliation Response Tactics):  I grabbed my purse, stood up, and limped off as if nothing had happened.  And I did it all while praying I would never again be forced to face the 100 or so faces that witnessed it all. I prayed all the more when I saw a cute guy on a bike, waiting for the light to change so he could cross the street.  Unfortunately, my prayers reached the pearly gates a bit too late; he snickered as he passed.  Wretched luck. 

Perhaps the worst part of all is the fact that the thought crossed my mind – several times actually – that I really should change my shoes before heading downtown.  But I brushed the thought away.  After all, they matched my outfit perfectly; they were cuter than ever; AND they were already on my feet.  Not to mention, I would ony be out for a short period of time.  If only I had paid heed.

The moral of the story is this: If God tells you to change your shoes before going out in public, change your shoes …