Wednesday, October 26, 2011

The other day I wore black skinny jeans to work, which meant I had two options in footwear: a pair of boots or tall patent leather peeptoe slingback wedges pictured here. (That may be the most descriptive shoe explanation ever.) Patent leather won because it’s shiny and sometimes I like to feel fancy and because I love these particular peeptoes. You can’t even tell that I am in desperate need of a pedicure!

I rarely ever wear flats because … well, because I don’t. This isn’t a therapy session so I’ll spare you the body image brain dump. I’m working on it.

So, as I was wobbling walking down the concrete hallway from my apartment to the parking garage that morning, a man crossed in front of me, opened the door, and stood there a good 15 seconds holding the door until I got there. I thanked him and apologized that I couldn’t walk any faster in my heels. And his response?

“I heard those heels and thought, ‘That’s a human in need of help.’”


A human in need of help.

I don’t know how I feel about that. I mean, sir, you do see that this is a stacked-heel shoe, yes? That’s more difficult to walk in than, say, a graduated heel. So maybe that’s why I looked like I didn’t have my sea legs and was making the noise of a herd of thundering buffalo.

See? Do you see? Not easy to walk in these!

I started to tell him that his overgrown beard and hooded sweatshirt pulled all around his face on a 65° morning made me look at him and think, "Hmm. That's a human who might blow up a library." But I'm classier than that. You know, because I smiled graciously and then immediately put him down on my mental list of things to make fun of blog about.


Robin said...

what he really meant......I heard a woman in high heels coming and I need to check her out.

dirty old man.

awesome shoes, by the way.

The Bakers said...

Sounds like he doesn't have a lot of contact with, you know, humans.