Now I've gone through a hundred pairs of flats - they've been my staple footwear for the past year or so - and I was so convinced that these were a steal.
And boy was I wrong. Horribly so.
I wore them, for the first time ever, with my first casual Friday attire in my new job. This is what they looked like at 9 am:
Can. You. Imagine. The. Horror.
So I was setting up my laptop, and as I crossed my legs I cast a glance at my new shoes and suddenly my head was buzzing with a dozen expletives. Thankfully I had training so I had a good excuse to remain glued to my seat the entire day. Which brings us to the most pressing question of the week: how the hell do I manage to get home?
After weighing the risk of a major shoe meltdown versus the cost of taking a cab multiplied by the probability of getting one during rush hour, I decided to be brave and walk to the bus stop. Obviously my risk calculation skills have gone down the drain due to extreme stress because this is where things go from bad to worse.
Halfway from the office to the bus stop, my left shoe, which started out smiling, is now doing the shoe equivalent of a dog wagging its tongue - that is, more than half of the sole is hanging out. And the right shoe is also showing signs of breaking down.
How I managed to make it to the bus stop I can't tell you because my brain must've blocked out the memory to help me recover from the trauma. But not enough for me not to remember the sole falling apart completely twenty steps away from the bus stop.
My thought bubble:
Is there a shoe store nearby?
There's a 7-11 a couple of steps away. What are the chances I'll find footwear there?
Will they let me board the bus on foot?
Is there any chance that none of these people who are passing by are my officemates?
The silver lining (well it's more lead than silver but let's just be thankful there's a lining) - the godforsaken shoe managed to stay intact even with the sole about to fall off. So I just ripped the sole off, stuffed it inside my purse, and walked to the bus stop as if nothing happened,as if I'm completely unaware of the fact that one of my shoes is missing a sole, and the other looks like a Sesame Street puppet. Although I probably looked as if I'm about to cry, or laugh hysterically and then shoot myself in the head.
And to add
No more cheap shoes. Ever. Ever. Ever.