See those two shoes up there? The ones that don't match, not even close? Yours truly managed to leave the house last night in those completely different shoes.
Apparently, when I checked myself out in the mirror before I left, I failed to look at my feet, which is not too surprising considering I pretty much never do that. What is odd is that I must have put each shoe on without looking at what I was doing. For the love of Pete, I know those shoes are slip-ons/backless, but how could I not catch a glimpse of them while sliding my tootsies in?! And as you can see from the photo, the structure is quite different. Any marginally coherent or observant person should notice that they don't feel the same.
Yet I, apparently as clueless as they come, managed to walk out of the house and drive to the Strip District without noticing anything was amiss. When I got of my car almost 30 minutes later and took a few steps, then I decided to look down. Oddly enough (but clearly not surprisingly at this point), at first I noticed only one of my shoes, the one with the buckle, and I thought right away I must have found the missing one (as I was getting dressed earlier, I found only one buckled one, and I guess as I started to look at my collapsed shoe rack for the other, I must have gotten distracted). It was at this point, I finally noticed the altogether different show on my right foot.
What is a girl to do? I was supposed to meet a good friend from college and a handful of her other friends to celebrate her 40th birthday, so I walked with my head held high, and I entered Eleven (a nice restaurant in the Strip). As the first person to arrive, however, I opted to hide my feet at the table, rather than wait in the lounge. And although my secret would have probably been safe, I decided to share my almost-too-hard-to-believe tale with the group. At least everyone started off the evening with a good laugh. Kind of hard to top that.
And to think I was the only one in the group still in my 30s...