Beadazzled Shoes

Last week, I went out on the town with my friend Linda. We went to see a really good show, Sara Bareilles, Rachael Yamagata, and David Ford. 3 awesome musicians. It was a great show. These outings are never uneventful, though, so of course there is a story that has nothing to do with the music, but everything to do with me. Here goes.

After a nice dinner, we were walking down South Street on the way to the venue, when BAM. My shoe broke. I guess you could say that I broke my shoe, only I have no idea how. I had thought long and hard about my shoe selection, so needless to say I was very disappointed. So I now had 15 minutes to buy some emergency shoes. Talk about pressure.

I ended up with this jazzy pair:

Since I had been wearing sandals I had no socks, so I instead had to wear those cut off pantyhose things that you use to try shoes on at the shoe store. Not so comfy. And this particular venue has maybe 10 chairs in the whole place, and we didn't secure any because we were too busy looking for shoes, so we were standing up for the first set, and we started to grow weary with aches and old age.

I started looking at those who had seats with a sort of disdain. They were all young and spry. They clearly didn't need the chairs. My old tired legs deserved a damn chair. Jerks. I knew Linda was feeling the same way, as David Ford sang his song "Go to Hell" and she leaned over to whisper in my ear that he was talking to the people with chairs.

I noticed a nice-enough looking group of chair people seated directly in front of us. As a matter of fact, they had 4 chairs AND a table. Lucky bastards. Anyway, once in a while, one of them would get up to go to the restroom, and order the others to protect their chair from what must have looked like a crowd of vultures surrounding them. The others would then put their foot or bag on the chair and look around nervously until the missing chair person would come back and plop their lucky ass back down.

At this point, I began to devise a plan. The nice chair people were clearly uncomfortable with a vacant chair to protect, and I was mighty uncomfortable standing when there was a vacant chair nearby, so I proposed to them that I be their "seat saver" (like at the Oscars) and I would get up and give the chair back as soon as their friend returned. I won them over with the tale of my Beadazzled Shoes and before you knew it, we were like old pals. As it turned out, they had to leave after the second set, and Linda and I got their chairs AND the table. Score for the Beadazzled shoes.