Heelarious

Today was a day of highs and lows. When I say highs, I mean nice weather and my favourite new person in the world, who for arguments sake we can call Albert, saving my headphones from being mercilessly chewed up and spat out by the escalator at Oxford Circus station. Somewhat ironically, the low of my day also took place at Oxford Circus station five hours later.  Had it not been for the fact that I went through this episode of public humiliation with someone who makes me laugh on a daily basis and for the fact that it was admittedly hilarious; I probably would have joined the 7yr old I’d seen earlier crying hysterically in Boots.

Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever taken part in the epic battle of Oxford Circus at rush hour but it makes crossing Middle Earth look like an afternoon at the Wacky Warehouse.  Basically I had a shoe, well, boot related nightmare.  I’m pretty sure everyone has a pair of shoes they just can’t face throwing away. I’m prone to hanging on to things other people would have let go of years ago. The people closest to me will be reading this and imagining a certain blue jacket. Today I was wearing a pair of boots which I have already had repaired once when the heel snapped off. Today, not only did the repaired heel snap off, but both heels snapped off …as I was walking down the stairs into the station surrounded by an obscene amount of people which of course resulted in me falling, well I prefer to think surfing, dramatically down god knows how many steps. My life flashed before my eyes. That was it. The last thing I would see would be the student dressed in a Dalmatian costume shaking a bucket of change in the face of irritated commuters.

Thankfully my friend’s spiderman-like reflexes kicked in and she saved me before I hit the floor. I wish I could say that was the end of it. After approximately 6 minutes of hysterical laughter from my friend and myself, as if the stair surfing hadn’t drawn attention to me already, the realisation that I had both heels hanging off my shoes and was beginning to resemble a homeless child from a Charles Dickens story set in. There was only one option…rip them off completely. I looked at my friend in between outbursts, got serious and told her “ok. Just do it”. Five minutes later after fits of laughter, my friend putting all her weight on my heel and me trying to rip off the heel in a deranged kicking motion I was left standing in the middle of Oxford Circus station with the prospect of the journey home with heel-less boots. Oh yes, socks on show and everything. The biggest laughs came from the Lenny Henry look-a-like tramp singing extremist songs pointing out that I’d broken my shoe a bit. If only Albert had been there. Highs and lows people, highs and lows.