14
Feb
08

On Valentine’s Day, V is for Vamp

My friend Jess says I look for the same qualities in a man that I do in my shoes: Tall, sexy, stylish, and guaranteed to cause me pain by the end of the night.

I guess I see what she means. I have this pair of Steve Madden peep toes that I like to call my ‘Mistress Katie’ heels.

They’re black patent leather and four inches high. They are fierce with a capital ‘F.’

But here’s the catch: These shoes, which make my legs looks fabulous at the beginning of the night, also leave them screaming for elevation by the end.

These types of shoes are sneaky. They entice you with their glossy appearance, they charm you with their flashy labels…and then they leave you with a permanent scar.

Take, for example, the night I accompanied some friends to a local bar in Venice, Ca. It was Valentine’s Day, and I’d just broken up with my ex of one year. I was itching to get out of the house, afraid that if I didn’t, the t.v. might swallow me up with unbearable romantic tearjerkers like The Notebook and The Way We Were.

I slipped on those stiff shiny peep toes and looked in the mirror. Oh yeah baby, I looked good, all six feet of me!

But just as I was getting my strut on at the bar, I saw him across the room. The dreaded ex. My added height suddenly made me extremely lightheaded. The air was thin. I was developing that condition that kills people who hike Mt. Everest. I spotted the closest barstool and sank onto it, breathing deep gulps and wondering if the group of drunk girls outside the bathroom would let me cut the line if I said I was going to puke.

Then, a voice with a thick accent next to me said: “how’s your night going so far?” I glanced to the right and, sitting on the stool next to me was the best Jude Law look-a-like I’d ever seen. The Full lips, the perfect bone structure, the wide set blue eyes. His dirty blond hair was tousled the way hair was supposed to look tousled. It was uncanny. He proceeded to buy me a drink and we began talking. His accent—which turned out to be Russian– was so sexy, I was immediately attracted to him…I couldn’t believe my luck. It had to be the shoes!

As the night went on, ‘Jude’ bought me another drink, and another, and the two of us settled in for some hard-core flirting. He said he lived just around the corner. I briefly considered how drunk I’d have to be to leave with him. It was Valentine’s Day after all. I decided to think on it. I glanced up and saw my ex had still not noticed I was in the bar. Even more annoying—he now looked totally engrossed with some girl who was giggling and fingering the strap of her halter-top like she was ready to yank it off. As if on cue, the lights in the bar flicked on. “C’mon baby let’s get out of here, said ‘Jude’, grabbing my hand. I was sold. Who cared about my ex when I was about to enjoy a night of passion with this sexy foreigner?

I stood up, ‘Jude’ slid off his stool and—disappeared. When my eyes finally adjusted to the brightness, I found myself staring at the top of his head. Hot ‘Jude’ had shrunk to half my height.

Still holding his hand, I stared in shock at the top of that beautifully tousled head, afraid to look down. This couldn’t be! What was that he’d said earlier about working as an acrobat for Cirque de Soleil? I should have paid better attention! ‘Jude’ let go of my hand and secured his arm snugly around my waist. I finally looked down hoping for a clever excuse to run screaming from the bar. ‘Jude’ gave me an embarrassing, not so subtle once over and whistled when he saw my heels. “I like your shoes….sexy!” he slurred and tried several unsuccessful times to swing his arm up and around my shoulders. I swear I even saw him jump once.

My mind was racing. I suddenly hated those stiff, slutty, way to hard to walk in heels. I wanted to kick them off and throw them across the room. I felt ‘Jude’ tightening his grip on my waist and, before I could control myself I was, instead, kicking my four inch heel right into his shin. Then I turned and hobbled out of the bar. The next morning, I cleaned out my closet and made a long overdue trip to the Goodwill.

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