January 11th, 2009
Impossible Situations #3 What would you do?
Kirsty S asked:
You’ve gone to a posh nightclub with a couple of friends. Having not been out in a while, you decide to go all out and wear a black short dress and a pair of very expensive designer 4.5″ strappy black sandals, with loose straps that wind up your calves. You have fun and party with your friends until the early hours. At one point, on one of your many trips to the bar you run into a woman wearing halter-neck black and white top, black flared mini skirt and a pair of killer 5″ white leather stilettos. You mistakenly step on her shoe, scuffing the leather and not even realising it you ask the bartender for a drink. She taps you on your shoulder and says ‘Excuse you! You’ve just ruined my shoe! These are Armani you know!?’ Looking a little bewildered you respond ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I stepped on your shoes! I’ll buy you a drink!’ ‘A drink?!!?’ she retorts, her voice climbing another octave. ‘Do you realise how much these cost me?’ You look down at her shoes and think they’re really nice, but ultimately is was an accident and you think she’s over-reacting. ‘Look, I’m really sorry, but it was an accident. Not much I can do.’ The bartender bring you your drink. ‘What shoes are you wearing, she asks with a distasteful look on her face.’ ‘Oh, I just go these last week. They’re Jimmy Choos.’ The other woman’s face relaxed considerably. ‘They look lovely, what size are you?’ Not really bothered anymore and wanting to go back to your friends you respond ‘Size 6…. Look sorry about your shoes.’ and you walk off leaving her at the bar.
The night continues and you’ve had way too much to drink and your friends are still partying hard. Feeling very noxious you plead with them to leave but they decline. You then make your way out of the club, stumbling along in your heels and wishing you could remember a cab number to call. That’s when you bump into the woman you barely remember at the bar outside. ‘Are you alright hon?’ she asks you smiling. ‘Fine thanks.’ you reply, your words slurring slightly. ‘Just looking for a taxi… have you seen any?’ ‘As a matter of fact I’m looking for them too, and I was told they’re just on the other street behind the club. Just through here…’ she walks into a side street and you follow. Both your heels tapping loudly against the asphalt as you make your way down the narrow side street. You then feel like you’re going to be sick and you stop, leaning against the wall. You slide down onto the floor on your knees and wretch. You notice her coming behind you and asking if you’re ok. At this point you’re not really concerned, the world is spinning too fast and you feel awful. You can feel something tugging at your legs but you barely give it any attention as you get ready to wretch again. You feel the tugging again and after the second vomit you feel a lot better, and your mind gets a little clearer. That’s when you realise your feet are touching the cold asphalt. You look back and see the woman in her halter neck and flared mini skirt, just finishing tying the strap of your sandals on her legs. ‘What the hell are you doing with my shoes??’ You ask alarmed. ‘You ruined mine b*tch, so I’ll have yours.’ and with that she tosses her white pumps onto the puddle of puke you’ve just thrown up and it splatters on your dress. She laughs and continues to walk down the street to the line of taxis waiting at the bottom of the road in your Jimmy Choo stiletto sandals…. What would you do?
You’ve gone to a posh nightclub with a couple of friends. Having not been out in a while, you decide to go all out and wear a black short dress and a pair of very expensive designer 4.5″ strappy black sandals, with loose straps that wind up your calves. You have fun and party with your friends until the early hours. At one point, on one of your many trips to the bar you run into a woman wearing halter-neck black and white top, black flared mini skirt and a pair of killer 5″ white leather stilettos. You mistakenly step on her shoe, scuffing the leather and not even realising it you ask the bartender for a drink. She taps you on your shoulder and says ‘Excuse you! You’ve just ruined my shoe! These are Armani you know!?’ Looking a little bewildered you respond ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I stepped on your shoes! I’ll buy you a drink!’ ‘A drink?!!?’ she retorts, her voice climbing another octave. ‘Do you realise how much these cost me?’ You look down at her shoes and think they’re really nice, but ultimately is was an accident and you think she’s over-reacting. ‘Look, I’m really sorry, but it was an accident. Not much I can do.’ The bartender bring you your drink. ‘What shoes are you wearing, she asks with a distasteful look on her face.’ ‘Oh, I just go these last week. They’re Jimmy Choos.’ The other woman’s face relaxed considerably. ‘They look lovely, what size are you?’ Not really bothered anymore and wanting to go back to your friends you respond ‘Size 6…. Look sorry about your shoes.’ and you walk off leaving her at the bar.
The night continues and you’ve had way too much to drink and your friends are still partying hard. Feeling very noxious you plead with them to leave but they decline. You then make your way out of the club, stumbling along in your heels and wishing you could remember a cab number to call. That’s when you bump into the woman you barely remember at the bar outside. ‘Are you alright hon?’ she asks you smiling. ‘Fine thanks.’ you reply, your words slurring slightly. ‘Just looking for a taxi… have you seen any?’ ‘As a matter of fact I’m looking for them too, and I was told they’re just on the other street behind the club. Just through here…’ she walks into a side street and you follow. Both your heels tapping loudly against the asphalt as you make your way down the narrow side street. You then feel like you’re going to be sick and you stop, leaning against the wall. You slide down onto the floor on your knees and wretch. You notice her coming behind you and asking if you’re ok. At this point you’re not really concerned, the world is spinning too fast and you feel awful. You can feel something tugging at your legs but you barely give it any attention as you get ready to wretch again. You feel the tugging again and after the second vomit you feel a lot better, and your mind gets a little clearer. That’s when you realise your feet are touching the cold asphalt. You look back and see the woman in her halter neck and flared mini skirt, just finishing tying the strap of your sandals on her legs. ‘What the hell are you doing with my shoes??’ You ask alarmed. ‘You ruined mine b*tch, so I’ll have yours.’ and with that she tosses her white pumps onto the puddle of puke you’ve just thrown up and it splatters on your dress. She laughs and continues to walk down the street to the line of taxis waiting at the bottom of the road in your Jimmy Choo stiletto sandals…. What would you do?
