Walking with the enemy....

6 years ago

When it comes to selecting shoes, I go by the old adage, it is better to look good, than to feel good.  As a result, most of my shoes look really pretty, but they are anything but comfortable. 

Case in point....

These are one of my favorite shoes, look wise that is.  I brought these shoes to the city with me to wear to one of the cocktail parties we had to attend, along with a gray pinstriped suit.  If I was smart, I would have left them in the hotel room and wore a different pair to my office.  But, since I had a meeting at work earlier in the day, which I had to dress for, I was afraid if I wore a shorter heel, my pants would be too long.  As a result, I wore these shoes to work too.

That was my first mistake... Even though in the late afternoon I shed my shoes and walked barefoot throughout my office, by the time I returned to the hotel, my toes were already throbbing.  At this point, I didn’t have any alternative choices to wear.  I guess I could have put on my sneakers, but let's face it, that was not a realistic option.

I hobbled up to the party with my husband, Marc.  As we mixed and mingled, friends asked me to sit down with them.  I kept declining, explaining that if I sat down now, in these shoes, I would never get up.  All the girls understood.  All the men, Marc included, thought I was crazy. 

As the party began to wind down, I finally sat for a little while and chatted with a friend who I only see about once a year.  That was my second mistake...  As soon as I tried to get up I realized I couldn't.  My toes were practically numb.  I tried to walk out of the room with Marc, but to say my I was hobbling, would have been an understatement.  A drunk, wounded soldier could have walked better.  Seeing my struggle, and the obvious pain I was in, Marc scooped my in his arms and carried me out of the room.  When we reached the elevator, I finally took my shoes off, and walked around the hotel barefoot.   

The next morning, I had to go back to work.  Since I wasn't planning on doing any walking, I wore the shoes again (I know, I know... dumb move) and carried my sneakers with me, along with our overnight bag.  Unlike the day before where I was able to catch a cab seconds after leaving the hotel, this morning I had to stand and wait for about fifteen minutes.  As each minute ticked by, my toes protested just a bit more. Man, did I regret not wearing my sneakers as Marc suggested.

Finally a cab came.  I figured my shoe saga was finally over.  Oh, if only I was so lucky.  There was major traffic in midtown Manhattan, causing me to reach Penn Station just as they were making the final call for my train. I knew that if I didn't make this train, I would have to wait in the station for over an hour for the next train, which I totally wanted to avoid doing.  So I did the natural thing...  I ran through Penn Station... In...the...shoes....

The conductor was about to close the door as he saw me running.  He waved me on.  I made a final mad dash just as the doors were about to close.  "I hate these shoes!"  I told him as I entered the train and stumbled to a seat.

It took a while for me to catch my breath, and for the pain in my toes to subside.  When I finally regained my composure I texted Marc about my run. “So are you finally going to throw them out?" he texted back.

"No way! I LUV them," was my reply.  Although, I have to admit, I love them a whole lot more sitting rather than standing or walking.

Do you suffer with shoes you love, or stick with wearing shoes that are comfortable?

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