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 …