It’s that time of the year again! It’s filled with joy and happiness. Lots of shopping, decor and fun. You know what time of year I’m talking about. You guessed it my beloved readers… My BIRTHDAY!
Just what you were expecting to me to say, right?
The girls and I got hotel rooms for the night. Reservations for dinner, hair and makeup appointments were made. It was a night! Filled with fabulous looking women if I do say so myself. I’ve been gifted with gorgeous friends. I know, I know oh the struggles lol.
We all pregamed in my room. Vodka anyone? Hell yes! We took our drinks to go. When we walked downstairs to the lobby. Well all eyes were on us and I also like to think eyes were on my fantastic gift to me. My stunning shoes. My Manolos. They are well almost too beautiful to be worn. But after I paid $2500 for them they deserved to be seen if you know what I mean.
Side Note: Yes, they were a little expensive. But I’ve gotta treat myself sometimes. Special occasion after all!
We visit our favorite wine bar. Then walk over, no strut to dinner. When we party we party hard. We all work hard after all and it’s the beginning of the holiday season. Extra alcohol is needed desperately.
We are making way thru multiple courses at dinner. And multiple bottles of wine. Each one of us is purchasing a bottle. There are eight of us, you do the math. All of us are happy and tipsy. Just the way it’s meant to be on my special day.
The girls and I are having a blast. Lots of wine equals boisterous conversation and laughter. It’s rated R. The F word is flying everywhere. Someone or someone’s sent us two bottles of champagne. We are the entertainment for the evening.
One of my girls takes a smoke break. When she drinks she smokes. She takes her vino with her. She’s gone for only a minute and returns soaking wet and says, “It’s fucking pouring! Did anyone bring an umbrella?”
Inner Monologue Moment: FUCK! Really? My hair and makeup are too fabulous to be ruined by Mother Nature.
We all point out our clutches. They are too small and cute to hold umbrellas. And holding an umbrella won’t go with these outfits. We did check the weather. It said twenty percent. Which means NO FUCKING RAIN!
Inner Monologue Moment: I want to kill the weather man. We better not run into each other on the street.
We decide to let it go, finish dinner, hope it will clear up by the time we are done. Dinner was great and now it’s time to venture out.
One of girls suggests getting a Uber. Excellent idea!
I then point out that the restaurant to the curb where the car will be pulling up is still really far apart. The girls say if I run it’s not that far. My response, “FUCK NO!!!” I walk over to the bar and ask for a few plastic bags. I come back to the table. The girls look confused.
I hand out bags to them. They can put it over their heads to run to the car. Three say yes, the others say they’ll run it.
Me on the other hand….
$2500 shoes my beloved readers! Manolos are not meant for rain. Over my dead body. I take off my shoes at the table. My pedi looks good just for these moments. I receive strange looks from the table next to us as I put a plastic bag over my head.
The girls say the Uber is here. Oh fuck, here we go. Now I’d like you to imagine eight women dressed to the nines running to a soccer mom van. Some with or without shoes on. Some with plastic bags. One holding a glass of wine trying to cover it as she runs. If the restaurant had security cameras I’m sure they saved that footage to laugh at later.
I’m the last one out. The girls are yelling from the Uber to come on.
Ugh…. Here I go.
Theme Song: Fuck me pumps by Amy Winehouse. Is playing in my head as I run.
Hopefully the shoe gods will save me!!! And cue pouring ass freezing rain. My dress getting soaked. It’s transparent by the time I make it to the van. Thank goodness I wore good lingerie. But I make it to the Uber. My makeup well, that didn’t make it. But in my hands I untie my plastic bag. My Manolos are safe! YES!!!!! THANK YOU SHOE GODS.
Quote: “Dear Santa, I’ve been naughty and I’d like shoes to match.”