Prada and Crazy glue
Yesterday a couple of things happened to me that I kept thinking after each one: "O.K., now someone with a hidden camera will show up." I mean, the amount of pathetic incidents was incredibly ridiculous.
Listen to that: I had an appointment in NYC, and I had never gone there alone. Believe it or not. Well, I managed to find a near by train station, drove there, and yes, I did find it! :) Finding a parking space at that time of the day was more problematic, since all the good ones were taken. So, after some flirting with a police officer and asking him whether he would "only" give me a ticket or towed my car, I was relieved to hear that the latter one would not happen. Good!
I parked at some place, had no idea where to pay, thought however, that it might have been a free spot. Great, I thought! I wondered why people always complained about the parking issue! Well, next thing was the ticket purchase. I am used to the old days where there was a booth in the train station with a "large" person sitting there (You know those people, where you would ask as a child your parents how they could fit in the booth and they would answer that there were left in the spot as babies and grew inside of the booth...). Nothing here: welcome to the 21st century. Good thing I had a credit card with me and was able to find my way through the machine, which speaks 5 languages! So no showing off from my side at this point!
The train ride was good, everything was on schedule and I kept myself busy with looking outside the window and enjoying the view.
I got off the train, am walking like a real New Yorker, which means basically "running" in New England through the street... and there it happened: I had this funny empty feeling under my left foot.... Somehow I could put the whole foot on the ground... I looked down, and there it was: the heel of my 500 $ Prada shoe... disconnected like a tumor from the rest of the shoe! I could not believe my eyes! My first thought was not the meeting I had, but rather whether the heel was fixable. So I went back, picked up the heel and started going from one store to another, holding that heel like a gun and no, not asking for money, but for glue.
Turned out that No. 1: New Yorkers are not as unfriendly as people declare them to be. I guess they must see at least 1000 pairs of lonely heels on the sidewalks. And No. 2: There was my heaven, a Duane Read. So, I went there, explained the situation and got some glue, glued the heel, but it would not stick. Hence, I took some tape and started taping the heel as well.
I have to say, I managed well, I got to my appointment on time, no one noticed, expect maybe if people were thinking why I walked funny (but again, this is New York we are talking about, so there is no funny person, only exotic and creative people!)
By the way, I did get a parking ticket: $30 for parking right in front of a lake access way. And now I feel really grown-up that I went to the city all by myself!!!
Listen to that: I had an appointment in NYC, and I had never gone there alone. Believe it or not. Well, I managed to find a near by train station, drove there, and yes, I did find it! :) Finding a parking space at that time of the day was more problematic, since all the good ones were taken. So, after some flirting with a police officer and asking him whether he would "only" give me a ticket or towed my car, I was relieved to hear that the latter one would not happen. Good!
I parked at some place, had no idea where to pay, thought however, that it might have been a free spot. Great, I thought! I wondered why people always complained about the parking issue! Well, next thing was the ticket purchase. I am used to the old days where there was a booth in the train station with a "large" person sitting there (You know those people, where you would ask as a child your parents how they could fit in the booth and they would answer that there were left in the spot as babies and grew inside of the booth...). Nothing here: welcome to the 21st century. Good thing I had a credit card with me and was able to find my way through the machine, which speaks 5 languages! So no showing off from my side at this point!
The train ride was good, everything was on schedule and I kept myself busy with looking outside the window and enjoying the view.
I got off the train, am walking like a real New Yorker, which means basically "running" in New England through the street... and there it happened: I had this funny empty feeling under my left foot.... Somehow I could put the whole foot on the ground... I looked down, and there it was: the heel of my 500 $ Prada shoe... disconnected like a tumor from the rest of the shoe! I could not believe my eyes! My first thought was not the meeting I had, but rather whether the heel was fixable. So I went back, picked up the heel and started going from one store to another, holding that heel like a gun and no, not asking for money, but for glue.
Turned out that No. 1: New Yorkers are not as unfriendly as people declare them to be. I guess they must see at least 1000 pairs of lonely heels on the sidewalks. And No. 2: There was my heaven, a Duane Read. So, I went there, explained the situation and got some glue, glued the heel, but it would not stick. Hence, I took some tape and started taping the heel as well.
I have to say, I managed well, I got to my appointment on time, no one noticed, expect maybe if people were thinking why I walked funny (but again, this is New York we are talking about, so there is no funny person, only exotic and creative people!)
By the way, I did get a parking ticket: $30 for parking right in front of a lake access way. And now I feel really grown-up that I went to the city all by myself!!!
posted by Women's Rights here and there @ 9:10 AM
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