Kamikaze T-Straps

So, I have been absent for the past couple days as Lord DB and I completed our weekend tour of DC.

A few housecleaning things:

1.  I wore sensible black heels to our event last Thursday and managed for most of the night with the exception of one blister.

2.  I have to confess I wore tennis shoes and flats all weekend minus one fancy dinner.   I know, I know, I am even judging my self.  No good…perhaps I am a fraud.

So we had a well walked weekend of fun in DC but ended with a delicious dinner at Smith & Wollensky to celebrate the anniversary of getting engaged 8 years ago.  This was the one time this past weekend where I braved heels and the Metro together, especially since Lord DB likes to speed walk and run up/down all escalators.  He is hard-core, huh?  Anyways, so I get dressed up, strap on some nice black t-straps with about 4 inch heel.  So we have our route mapped out and should be a grand total of .5 miles there and .5 miles back.  I make the first leg walking at the sprint pace of Lord DB.  We announce our reservations to the a pretty empty restaurant (gotta earn those OpenTable points) and are shown to our table.  The line consisted of Lord DB upfront, the general manager, and then me.  We are being taken to a private part of the restaurant away from all the other tables and seated behind a wine bottle wall.  While trailing last while walking through the main room, I hear, “Gasp, huh!”  Oh, shit, I am slipping and I may go down…it was like Brian Boitano in the Olympics minus the gracefulness and the spandex.  I pull it out and maintain a semblance of balance (kinda, well, um, anyways), and the manager catches me out the corner of his eye, “Whew, these wood floors are slippery aren’t they?”  Um, just a bit.

So all through this fantastic dinner and nice evening, I am having inner turmoil about the walk back out the door.  Damn, I don’t want to fall, stupid shoes, stupid wood floor.  Dinner finally wraps up and we leave.  I walk slowly to the door and nothing.  The floors aren’t slippery-I just suck at walking apparently, or there was a kamikaze banana peel on the floor.

But at least my shoes looked good…only made it back to the Metro then changed into flip flops…which if you have been to the Rosslyn Metro Station escalators, you would all understand.

The culprits:


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