High Heels

I have spent so much time in skyscraper heels recently that I can now walk around comfortably in them. Only about three weeks ago, any footwear other than ergonomically designed trainers felt upsetting to my feet.

leopardshoesWas supposed to work tonight. Didn’t. Put on a pair of my favourite heels (see picture), my cerise silk cocktail dress that wowed Marcel this time last year, and went to a party with Sayed. It was cool. We had a nice time. He is a sweet man really and we care for each other but he is all kinds of neurotic and inexperienced and is full of anxiety and is particularly terrified of me, which is perhaps as it should be. So many issues. I don’t know if I even have the patience to detangle him. He needs it, but do I really have the interest or the energy? I’m thinking not. He needs too much work doing. Anyway, we had a nice evening and I looked fairly gorgeous, especially around the ankles, and we made a very handsome and stylish couple. I always liked being out with Sayed, he dresses beautifully and is tall and is still very attractive at 60. Also we saw Sayed’s best friend, who I haven’t seen in 15 years and who greeted me with great affection and kept coming over during the evening to put his arm around my shoulders and stroke my hair, which was amusing, because in those shoes I am well over a foot taller than he is.

Meanwhile, my phone was busy with messages. Hungarian Boy emailed me and is being deferential, because he is a little tart who wants a present. Also there was a conversation with that Middle Eastern Angel from the other night. You know the one. The rich one who is just like Sayed except younger and with more of an appetite for punishment. We need to give him a name, let’s call him Faisal, after Faisal Antar, the footballer. He certainly has the body for it. So Faisal would like some more of my attention. And I am kinda thinking about it, I cannot lie. I am considering it. But now we are on a countdown because the amount of time between now and getting on a plane is turning into hours rather than days and I have a shitload of things to do. I can’t be sitting about texting boys and chatting to you all night long. I might even have to cancel the Angel that I had lined up for tomorrow.

There, that took my mind off the Head Honcho, didn’t it.

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