I’m not the kind of girl who wears heels pretty much ever. I am the kind of girl who wears cowboy boots though. How many pairs of cowboy boots do I own? Please just don’t ask; the answer is shameful.
The other day my childhood BFF Kathryn gave me these cowboy boots that had heels.
Of course I at once thought, say these should be a great idea to wear out on the town for a night of drinking and dancing. Yes, this was a bad idea from the moment I put my foot in the first boot. Even as I tottered around the house, making delicious teriyaki salmon with pineapple and my boyfriend threatened to take away my chefs knife if I didn’t put down the vodka grapefruit tonics I could already see that I barely walk in these boots! If I had been sober maybe I would have put on different shoes before leaving the house for the evening, but well, that is not what happened. Three drinks later we called a cab and decided that if I could barely walk in the high-heeled cowboy boots at home than wearing them for a night out on the town of Big Bear Lake was a fine idea.
We soon found ourselves at the Big Bear “night club.” Kathryn and I tried to get the party started on the dance floor. There were two problems though; we can not dance, oh and also we were the only ones on the dance floor. Well, there were only actually a few more people in the “nightclub.” That was okay as our dancing was not impressive, even with me hobbling about in the cowboy boots.
We were soon off to check out Murray’s Saloon, the happening spot on a Saturday night in Big Bear. It was some where in between the two bars that I realized that the bottom layer of each boot had pretty much peeled off. The sole layer of the boot was only sticking on about ten percent. I could barely walk in these boots before they fell apart and now with an extra layer of boot to try and walk in I gave up.
I decided to lay down in the bushes as I was proceeding to laugh my ass off.
And that’s when the sheriff showed up.
But I insisted on referring to him as The Fashion Police.
I was laughing so hard that I really was having a hard time explaining myself or my situation. My boyfriend was trying to explain to the sheriff what was going on and he seemed to think we were just really drunk.
So than I fell over a bush, not that I was drunk, but I was laughing so hard I couldn’t walk. (Oh and also my boots were destroyed!)
That’s when I showed the sheriff the boots and we just explained that we were on our way to find more alcohol ( and also we were cabing it back home because we are responsible) He looked at my destroyed boots in my hands (Obviously I had given up on wearing them at this point) and just wished us luck in our further adventures.
Than we finally made it to Murray’s and met some mountain people who just so randomly had a giant roll of tape because why wouldn’t you bring a giant roll of packing tape bar hopping? Our new friends helped me tape my boots back together and another night in Big Bear came to an end.