Go forth on high heels, come back on
foot. Post-lunch trauma. The tragedy that
strikes black stilletos and my twisted feet
shall only be spoken about in hushed
tones. Deference to the departed.
The slinky black stilletos now lie
wrapped in a neon pink plastic bag in the
trash can, their next-to-last resting place,
on Robertson Boulevard and Melrose
Avenue. Right outside Cecconi’s.
This tragedy which was followed by dinner at
Louie involved the consumption of
generous servings of mussels and clams,
whilst further drowning in the charms of
Mint Juleps and Sparkling wine. The
mourning spilled over into the morning,
where I helped myself to
pizza with Italian Sausage from Terroni’s
and gulped down mouthfuls of French
Vanilla flavored coffee from the
May the shoes rest in peace.
They had seen better days.