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? The most creative and detailed answer gets full marks!
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? The most creative and detailed answer gets full marks!
December 13th, 2008 at 4:32 pm
thats waaayyy too long to read..
December 15th, 2008 at 8:29 pm
too long….. yes, no, maybe, it depends hope i get it right!
December 17th, 2008 at 4:33 pm
Why do you spend so much of your time writing, over and over again, about loosing expensive shoes. Get a life and learn. Stop wasting money on ridiculous shoes. Write about something else.
December 19th, 2008 at 5:07 pm
i would have run after here and been like, give me back my shoes b***h
December 22nd, 2008 at 10:01 pm
First up, I would take her ruined Armani shoes out of the puke (as gross as it sounds) and take them home with me. I’d wash them up and fix them as best as I could, then I’d sell them on eBay. No matter how tatty they might be now, there is always some crazy person on eBay after a bargain so you can guarantee you’d get some money back for them. That would make me feel a bit better about the whole situation. Once I’d sobered up and reclaimed some money, I’d get started on some revenge. Going to the police could be a good start, it is theft after all, but thats too easy. You could go back to the same club on a regular basis and hope you see that woman again. It could take months, it could take years but I wouldn’t give up. One day, you are bound to run into her again, and when that day comes i’d buy a large glass of (cheap) red wine, go up to her, and ‘accidentally’ pour it all over her, making sure you get the shoes especially good and covered. That would show her!!
Then I’d run fast
Oh by the way, did this really happen, or is this hypoethetical? Cos I didn’t really mean any of that. Oh except for the ebay thing… I’d definately do that
Lol.
December 23rd, 2008 at 7:08 pm
The odds are excellent that I would not be in a situation like that.
I refuse to buy designer clothes. I think they are a waste of money. I also wouldn’t wear a heel higher than two inches. Anything else looks tacky, is impossible to walk in and aren’t healthy. (When I do wear my heels, it’s just for a few hours at a time.)
I also don’t do dance clubs. I prefer places that aren’t overcrowded, and where I can actually talk with my companions, not scream in their ears. Also, if I do drink when I go out, I have no more than two drinks (beer and/or wine) as anything else could impair me. It’s also can be too expensive. (I can have a good bottle of wine and a six pack of real beer [i.e., Warsteiner, almost any porters, Guiness…) for the price of a couple of drinks at most places.
Also, I’m a size 11. I know no other woman with feet as big as mine.
The woman in the story should be thankful that the only thing that happened to her was that her overprices shoes were stolen. She was a walking stereotype– Drunk and alone stumbling around, much worse could have happened to her.
ETA: I’ve gotten many nice things free and second hand (most of our furniture, a good chunk of my clothing [what I’ve not gotten free, I’ve gotten for less than $20, most under $15, except for my winter coat, which I bought new and still only for $45 on sale), so she can have my shoes. It’s about Karma. Seriously, if she is that ticked about a lousy pair of shoes, let her have them. If she wasted hundreds of dollars on one pair of shoes, that’s her problem. Yes, I would be disappointed, as I only have one pair of heels (black, of course, it’s more practical, as they go with more) and I would have to buy another pair. However, in the big scheme of things, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal.
December 24th, 2008 at 10:57 pm
you should have borrowed a bike and run after the taxi.
December 26th, 2008 at 4:49 pm
Okay so I guess I’m too sick to throw the puke-covered Armani shoes at her. But I manage to stagger to my feet with her Armanis and follow, barefoot, at a distance. I find a cab just after she finds hers and I give the driver directions to follow at a distance. I find out where she lives and plan my revenge.
Three days pass as I stake out her place in my car–I’m using my personal days at work but I don’t care, because I’m finding where she is most vulnerable. Finally, one day she goes to the spa! And she’s wearing my Jimmy Choos!
I follow her in where she is getting a mani, pedi, and ****** all at once. I bribe the girl doing the mani-pedi, and I take her place. My sandals are right there on the floor. I motion to my friend Vicki, who is holding the camera for me, to start recording. Very carefully, I take out her dried-puke-covered Armanis from the bag I carried them in, and replace my own sandals with her pukey shoes. Then I wedge wooden matches between her toes, light them, and say (in a disguised voice), “I be right back!” Vicki and I tiptoe a safe distance away but keep the camera rolling, and catch her reaction when she screams and jumps.
Then we put it on U-Tube, and send the link to all her friends at work (especially the girls, who all **** her).
I know I’m a little evil, heehee!