Let’s start this story off by me telling you how much I hate to wear shoes. I really hate them so whenever I can wear flip flops of any kind I am happy. When I teach cycle or yoga or pilates I don’t have to wear workout shoes to the gym so you better believe I take advantage of that and wear the cutest non-workout shoes I can find.
That year at Christmas, my mom bought me a pair of wedge (3inch high) flip flops from BeBe. I loved those shoes. Not only were they so cute, black with BEBE in rhinestones across the straps (very fancy), but also comfortable and gave me a few inches of height which of course made me look taller and more intimidating (ok, I just made that up).
At the time I was teaching my evening classes out West… Glendora, West Covina, Walnut. My commute was a nightmare. We lived in Redlands but I drove out to those clubs every day, sometimes twice a day because that’s is where we lived prior, and classes are hard to come by.
Tuesday I taught a total of Seven (7) yes SEVEN classes. 830, 930, 1030, 12. Then I’d come home for a few hours and drive back out there for 6:30, 730, 830. I was finished with my day at 930PM and had an hour commute home. It wasn’t the best of times. My line up for that particular night was Pilates, cycle, yoga. None of which required regular shoes so of course, I was wearing my fancy BEBE’s.
I was at a club where the group exercise room was upstairs but the bathroom and everything else downstairs. It was a long walk to the bathroom so we all tried to plan our bathroom breaks with class breaks. We were 10 minutes into my first class and the lady next to me (who I had met a few times and seemed VERY nice), started getting up and getting her shoes on. She, unlike me had worn workout shoes so we are talking, socks, shoelaces, the whole thing. I look over and say to her “here take my shoes, it will be much faster”. Without hesitation, she stepped into my shoes and left the room.
A reasonable time later she returned, replaced my shoes and continued class. She took the next class too, once it was over, we say our goodbyes and I teach the rest of my night.
At the end of my Seventh class, I am finally ready to go home and see my daughter, who I really missed on days like this. I grabbed my shoes, put them on only to discover that my right shoe was broken. Not kinda broken, but broken broken… The middle part of the strap had been ripped right out of the shoe. I just sat there. Dumbfounded. The lady broke my shoe?
NOT only did the lady break my FAVORITE shoe but she failed to mention ANYTHING to me when she came back from the bathroom… OH, AND she took my cycle class, never said a word.
So now not only am I hurt, but I don’t have a fucking shoe…. again 3-inch wedges, hard to do with just one.
I am all the way upstairs and I have to go all the way downstairs to the parking structure to get my car.
The type of cycle shoes I wore at the time couldn’t be walked in. Well fuck, I guess I have to wear my socks.
It was a very long walk… through the gym down the stairs outside into the parking structure which I am sure my car was parked at the top level. Those socks didn’t stand a chance, I tossed them in the trash as soon as I got into my car.
As I was driving home, I couldn’t stop thinking of the lady and what stopped her from having the common courtesy of telling me she broke my shoe? She knew she broke it….. Dumbfounding.
Moral of the story, don’t let anyone EVER borrow your favorite shoes!!!