Hijacked Shoes

Some of you may remember my post about the slut shoes I couldn't live without. The slut shoes I had to have. The slut shoes that were never get the love and adoration from the people because I just haven't worn them enough.




Despite what I wrote before, I have yet to clean house in my slut shoes. I've worn them to the office a few times (slightly inappropriate I know), but they've never been worn "out". I know what happens when I go out. I drink and I tend to.....stumble....a little.

(Random picture from Saturday night!)

While gettin' dressed to go out Saturday night, I decided to put on my awesome slut shoes just to see exactly how much of a weeble wobble I looked like in them. I sauntered my ass in to the bathroom where J was brushing his hair and I posed. He said "damn, your ass looks good! Wearin' your butt panties aren't you?" Well, no, I wasn't wearin' my butt panties, my ass has just gotten that big thank you very much......besides, LOOK AT MY SHOES dammit! He said I looked damn good in them and had to wear 'em out.

I thought about it. I pushed aside all thoughts of faceplants in the streets of Atlanta and figured why not? I could just cling to J's arm all night to keep me from hittin' the floor as I trip and I could just take them off after I had a few drinks.



That was a great idea and all, but have you ever walked around the streets of Atlanta barefooted? Uh yeah. No bueno. Luckily, I had thrown a pair of flip flops in the car just in case and decided it was high time to get 'em.




I never made it to my car. BUT, I did come home wearing these..... Which totally are not these.....

Before I could make it to the car, a friend of mine Stacy graciously said we could trade shoes to give my feet a rest. Although her shoes were heels too, they were WAY more comfortable. I coulda run from the cops in those things if I had to!




The night goes on and by the end of the night I couldn't even wear Stacy's shoes. The wickery soles had made the balls of my feet raw as hell feelin'! There I was. Drunk. In Atlanta. Barefooted.....and Stacy had disappeared with my slut shoes. For a brief moment in my drunken stupor, I panicked. MY SLUT SHOES!!! WERE ARE MY SLUT SHOES?!?!? ARE THEY GONNA BE OK???? OH GOD!



Yeah. Then I had another shot and got over it. I'm thinkin' about hijacking her shoes. They're so cute and so comfy. I could really get used to heels if they were all the comfortable.



Thank you Stacy for lending me your shoes! Real friends don't let real friends get drunk in dangerous shoes.