Before I get into this glorious story I’d like to mention I’m working on a Costa Rica page for my blog with some useful resources/information and I’ll be posting more content related to that trip so I can link it on that page. Sorry, I know you’re probably sick of it by now: “We get it, you went to Costa Rica!” Ahhhh.
Anyway, I went to New York City for my friend’s birthday weekend (shoutout to her lovely mother for taking me along). Not everything went according to plan. The hotel we were supposed to stay at didn’t have our reservation, so we had to carry our stuff with us the rest of the day. Also, we had to get ready to see a Broadway show in the lobby bathroom – which was two stalls and a small mirror. I had chosen a cute velvet a-line dress, stockings, my favorite necklace, a black cropped denim jacket, and these amazing (or so I thought) studded wedges.
I had picked up these “bad boys” at a thrift shop a few years prior, but I had never worn them. That’s right, I never wore these. Not once. As you can tell from the title, that wouldn’t make much of a difference. Immediately after we exited the lobby I started hearing “click, flap, click, flap” when I walked. I looked down and noticed the sole of the shoe was coming apart! But I was able to tuck it underneath the heel protector, and I figured I could manage the rest of the night. I was wrong.
We took an Uber to the broadway show and as soon as we exited the car I felt this strange sensation. Apparently, the straps were glued underneath the sole, and when the sole starting coming off, the toe straps came undone. I couldn’t walk in them, they were *LITERALLY* falling apart on my feet, but I had no time to slow down because we were late for the show.
At this point I was pissed that these shoes fell apart on me. When intermission came into the garbage they went! These shoes erected extremely petty hatred that filled every fiber of my being. Hence the following photo.
Now, remember how we had to carry around our stuff? THANK GOD. I was able to change into a pair of boots I had brought. I guess the moral of the story is that if your hotel doesn’t have your reservation, it’s fine because your shoes are about to fall apart. And that concludes today’s installment of life lessons with Knurly.
See you soon,