Today, I had that most unfortunate of occurences - the shoe emergency. I know you are all on the edge of your seats, wondering just what went amiss.
I had just disembarked from the train, and was heading to the ladies room. As I walked across the terminal, I suddenly found myself slipping and sliding, flailing my arms about in a most amusing manner to the travelers who were seated and watching my progress. Happily, I did not fall, but I did look like an ass. Upon reaching the relative safety of the ladies room, I removed the offending shoe (an adorable black, pointy toe-d, kitten heeled pump) to see whether the problem was me or the floor. It was me. My poor shoe had lost its little plastic heel, and the metal pin was all that was left. No wonder I slipped!
What to do? There was nothing for it but to put the shoe back on, and make my way back across the terminal as best I could to my subway train. This was accomplished with no further incident, by mincing across the floor on the balls of my feet. Once I got off the subway at 23rd Street, I made my way directly down the block to the cobbler, who, upon hearing my dilemma, repaired the heels for the sum of $8.50.
The moral of the story? There are two. One, know where the closest cobbler is. Two, check your shoes for wear and tear BEFORE you put them on for the day.
Na Na 'Tapan' Pump
Thursday, March 09, 2006