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Shuffling on bloody stumps through Roscoe Village
By ELB | March 27, 2008
Yesterday I had my Lady Professional interview, so I got all gussied up and, after getting some useless advice from my neighbor on which sweater to wear, I set off looking great. I felt great too, that is, until I had gotten four steps out of my front door.
My stylish new shoes were agony on my winter-soft feet. I was limping before I hit the end of the block. By the time I got to the coffee shop, where I was meeting the interviewer from Lady Professional, Inc., my shoes were rapidly filling with blood. There’s nothing quite like standing there in a lovely dress and pearls, waiting for a coffee and shifting from foot to foot in an attempt to disguise the bloody smears up the backs of my heels. Apparently I did a pretty good job because some teen girls came up and told me they loved my style. I thanked them and agreed that, yes, I did look pretty good.
Once I got my coffee, I lurched over to a booth and proceeded to stuff my shoes with baby wipes. Yes, thank GOD I had some in my purse. Ever since I saw a homeless man vomit on a cute guy on the train, I’ve made sure to keep baby wipes close at hand. That and the fact that I have a child whose tiny buns require frequent wiping, often in public.
I managed to make it through the entire interview without the blood soaking through the wadding in my shoes. Once the interviewer and I shook hands and went our separate ways, I had to re-stuff my shoes and walk back to the train. By this time, my hooves were looking pretty bad, with ragged strips of bloody baby wipe poking out all over the place.
On the train I kept my feet demurely tucked under my seat. All was well until I got to my stop. My field dressings had slipped around so that, when I took a step, they flopped wetly out of my shoes. The train was emptying behind me, so I was kind of caught up in the traffic, but at the same time, I didn’t want to just leave bio-waste right there on the platform. I quickly stooped and gathered the soiled compresses, trying to look nonchalant. Who knows if it worked. I should check Craigslist to see if anyone left a missed connection for me.
“Hey, bleeding girl on the Brown line! Loved your look, too bad you’re a leper!”
Topics: dammit., Existential Horror, good times., Hoo!, Laments, Reflections From the Bottom Rung, Unnatural History | 6 Comments »
March 27th, 2008 at 11:30 am
You’re a trooper. They weren’t Fluvogs, were they? Those are trouble.
March 27th, 2008 at 1:18 pm
No, they’re from Target. Fortunately they’re black , so you can’t see the blood stains.
March 28th, 2008 at 7:55 pm
ooh! Fluvogs are uncomfy? I shall henceforth stop trying to find them anything but hideous. I mean, I thought that’s why people bought them, for their feel, like Clarks or something. The fact that I hate Fluvogs is just a sad case of my unfortunate preference for stiletto heels. I have endured much pain because of them.
March 30th, 2008 at 2:22 pm
i have recently discovered “Foot Petals” made out of some space age material that’s sure to send the Earth reeling out of its orbit and force the bower bird into extinction. You should get some for the ankle/heel area. They totally work.
March 30th, 2008 at 3:15 pm
You are a very considerate person on public transportation. Unlike, you know, the people who leave their OTHER body fluids and things behind. And all the other assholes and such who ride the train every day. Gold star for you!
I hope you hear something positive from the interview soon!
March 30th, 2008 at 10:53 pm
Good for you for picking up the bio-hazard, many wouldn’t. Quick suggestion for you from someone who also learned the hard way that beauty and style has its price – always always wear flip flops or ballet flats until you get closer to your destination and can make a quick switch. It has saved my feet numerous times. I just make sure I carry a purse big enough to stash the flip flops in.
I love that you carry baby wipes all the time. I own no less than 16 purses and every single one contains wipes. I thought *I* was the only crazy one.