In college, my friend, Emily, and I, used to have "date nights" as we would call them. It was a time when we would just make time for the two of us. No plans with anyone else, no inviting anyone else... it was just her and I. Some nights, if we were having trouble escaping the rabble, we would make up secret rendezvous in other parts of the city with other friends, just so that we could break free from all other roommates. All this to be alone... (and I wondered years later why my mom was worried I might be gay and have a crush on Emily.)
One evening, we got all dressed up and hit New York City like an explosion. The problem begins here: while I am an expert at walking in heels; truth be told, I could probably run a marathon in those bad boys, Emily?...not so good. I actually have video buried somewhere of this night and trying to teach her how to walk in heel. And you thought Pompeii was a sight. She was concentrating on the heels on her feet, so she would look down. She would look down so her back would be too straight and rigid. She was so rigid that her arms did not move naturally. She had a slight robot meets a cowboy look. But what I loved, what I always love about Emily is that she is determined. When we thougt she was ready to do this, we left.
Now, when you’re in college there is certain vocabulary that you need to know if you’re going to make it through any evening. One of the most important vocabulary terms is “pre-game”. A noun, this is the process in which you drink before you drink to avoid spending the little money you do have on drinks. So we had “pre-gamed (n.)” at our apartment before we left. As we were walking down the street talking and laughing, a cop car stopped to let us cross the road.
Here's an equation college graduates:
if g stands for girl and b for boozedrinks then 2g + b + 1g that cannot walk in heels = busting you're a*s in front of the cop car of course. Logic.
On top of everyone around us laughing, including myself and Emily, the cops opened their window and yelled, "Are you ok?" with their roof headlights directly beaming on Emily like a spotlight on a rescue mission ("Are you o.k. down there... there... there?)
Hysterical, I helped her up, the authorities drove away and date night had just begun
Moral of the story: friends don't let friends heelwalk drunk
** Revision: after speaking with Emily she commented that we were NOT “pre-gaming” before the incident. So for the clear up, now we know that she is even more disastrous in heels than previously noted. You busted your ass heelwalking stone cold sober.
Moral of this story: friends… don’t let Emily walk in heels!