Mrs. Misadventures – The next installment

Her shoes
My shoes

*Real shoes have been changed to protect the identity of the owner.  And beware, if you are my friend, and you do something I find funny, I may tell everyone about it!

Remember my friend with the Vera Bradley bag at the Dune de Pilat?  The very very large Vera Bradley bag I had to help her lug straight up the biggest and steepest sand dune in Europe??? Well, here is chapter two of the Mrs. Misadventures:
The other weekend we both attended a very fun farewell party in honor of a dear friend. A bit of wine consumed.  There was lots of dancing.  Most ladies liberated themselves of their high heels so there could be more dancing.  Me – ever the practical one – had worn my very favorite and very broken-in Keen sandals under a long skirt – because I had to rush from a dinner party to the farewell party.  Of course I walked the mile from my house to the dinner party and then another mile to the farewell party- who needs a taxi or metro when you have comfy shoes?
Well – lets just say by the end of the night my friend could not bear to put back on her gorgeous heels and started walking out of our friend’s apartment barefoot.  For heavens sake – my dog poops on these streets! I could not let her go barefoot – or heaven forbid call an UBER.  So, guess who ended up wearing the sandals?  And guess who ended up in the high heels?  We were quite a sight – me in her heels two sizes too big, and her in my sandals, two sizes too small.  I think the whole neighborhood heard us laughing and clicking and clacking down the road.
In anycase, we made it back safe and sound, ready for the next adventure.  And I am holding her heels hostage until she learns how to pack light for out next trip.

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