Downtown Cinderella

(Originally composed Wednesday, July 18, 2007)

Monday afternoon, lunch hour - I was quietly walking to the Subway in downtown when my right shoe suddenly screamed and fell apart right in front of the Bank of Oklahoma building on 4th street. There I stood in the noon sun, my mind already in a tizzy. Should I walk barefoot? Am I flighty enough to risk looking ridiculous walking about in business casual with no shoes during the lunch hour when the whole world is up and about?

I didn't think so. 30 seconds after the top of my right sandal came off in one clean piece, I decided to call someone from the office to come drive me to my car so I could go home and secure some footwear. In the 10 minutes Cinderella multitasked waiting for her carriage and acknowledging her skin getting hotter by the second, she wondered if she should've tossed her sandals last year when they fell apart the first time instead of trying to beat the Wicked Stepmother economy by super-glueing them back again.

When my ride showed up, I picked up my right sandal and made an action-hero dive into the passenger seat. Once I got to my car, I drove home in the 100F heat on a super empty stomach, chucked the sandals out, got into another pair, drove to the nearest Subway, wolfed down a footlong sandwich, then drove back to the office. The whole escapade took 1.5 hours, and by the time I was back at my cube, I was exhausted, slightly darker, with mild exposure to the sun. I was late for a meeting but I had called in long ago to let them know I'd be late...because my shoe broke.

What I learned from this episode:

1. Superglue doesn't hold up to heat for very long.
2. You forget how hot the pavements can get when you wear shoes.
3. My apartment looks very cosy and inviting in the middle of the day.
4. There is a spider in my bathroom that only comes out when it thinks I won't be around.
5. Cell phones are a boon, not a bane.
6. Standing in the sun or sitting in a hot car for a long time on an empty stomach with the sun beating down on you like it's no one's business is a recipe for sunstroke or at least heat exhaustion.
7. As if I didn't have an anatomical excuse before, but now I can really brown-nose.