heels

For work I tend to wear high heels. This has caused great amusement among my friends, most of who have never ever seen me in anything but trainers or fliplops or at least definitely not in a suit, shirt and heels.

Today, after lunch I was desperate for proper coffee. There is currently no coffee machine in the office. A detail, which I find highly annoying. Making people work in an office with limited or nonexistent access to nice coffee should be made illegal. Period.

So I grabbed my coat and hopped down two flights of stairs to the street. Luckily my nice coffee vendor is not too far away from the office. Just far away enough for my coffee to have time to cool down to a drinkable temperature while I make the journey back to my desk.

On the way back I got stuck. My heels sunk into the grass between two tiles on the road. I was stuck. With my Americano with some hot, skinny milk in the other hand and my purse in the other I tried to free my shoe from its capturers. My feeble attempt drew the attention of a rather attractive young man, who came to my rescue. How embarrassing.

“Are you ok?” Oh I am perfectly fine. Just stuck.

With a broad smile he helped me out of my miserable situation and let me into the building. After all the front door is rather heavy so one can only imagine what kind of a disaster could be looming around the corner, had I tried to open it myself.

Did I see a shimmer of light through the clouds when my blond prince rode to rescue?

Probably not. But he works in the same building.