Monday, May 16, 2005

Lost Soles RIP

Maddens, Steve, 3 years-old, survived by loving partner Nunzia who took great care in repairing numerous injuries even when crazy glue was required, will be sorely missed. Remains have been scattered at Union Station.

I am not superstituous, nor do I believe that Friday the 13th holds any special powers. However, on this Friday the 13th, I had the WORST luck.. when I was parted from the most loving sole(s) I've ever known... my favorite black strappy sandals!

For 3 years, and in spite of any new emerging trends, I refused to trade my beloved sandals for more modern models. Year after year, twisted ankle after twisted ankle, I crazy glued the straps back on and strutted around in them as though they were Manolo Blahniks. Some of my fondest memories include sitting at the Inner Harbor watching X glue my shoes back together before we could go to the aquarium... and then gluing them again in front of the aquarium when we were too late to be allowed admission. Black cat or not, these black shoes had nine lives.. and promised to have more. What went so tragically wrong?

Well, on Friday, as I walked towards the train (I was headed back to NY for the weekend) just minding my business, I suddenly went flying out of my shoes as the entire top tore off. Aside from the fact that I was mortified to have soared out of my shoes in such a crowded arena, I was devastated that the long journey I had walked in those shoes had come to a bitter and unexpected end. We would neve take another step together... what a sad realization.

Standing there, mouth open, wearing only one shoe and being watched by the many people who witnessed me go flying (as gracefully as an ostrich), I begrudgingly opened my bag to remove my uncomfortable 6 inch black heels - my only other black shoes - which will now have to fill.. err, replace.. those shoes... hard shoes to fill, in any case. I bitterly crammed my abused feet into the inferior taller replacements.

Sadly, I dropped my beloved, departed sandals into the garbage pail at Union Station as I continued on to my destination, hoping that no one witnessed this improper burial as I hobbled onward at new and terrifying heights, clacking all the way...

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