Sticky Feet

Sticky feet are generally two words that you'd prefer not to hear together. This morning on the train I was sitting in the middle seat of a three person bench and the Husband was facing me in the two-seater immediately across from where I was. There was a woman asleep next to the Husband. What this means is that five people were jammed into an area where really two, maybe three at most should be. Given that I had on the puffy coat and the women on either side of me also had on winter garb, were carrying large bags and one even had a laptop out there wasn't much room to move around. A few minutes after leaving PJ I felt a plastic bottle roll and hit my feet. Around New Brunswick I sort of noticed that my feet felt cold and wet. This whole time I was engaged in coversation with Wendy from Click! Modeling Agency, so my mind was not fully focused on my feet, but as time kept passing I started to realize, "wait a second, my feet don't just feel wet, they *are* wet".

I looked down and through the throng of body parts filling up the void between the two sets of train seats I notice liquid and the tell-tale plastic bottle. It seems as though someone behind us had brought a Pepsi with them and then gave it the old heave-ho, with or without the cap affixed. This probably wouldn't have been a problem if I hadn't been wearing my Patricia Green ballet flats with the leather bottoms.

(Truth be told, I had seen that it might rain this morning and I had intended to wear my converse clown shoes or my keds but didn't have time to pull them out of the closet thanks to the fact that Miss Kitty had decided to go into hiding in order to avoid being sequestered to the kitchen while the contractors are roaming free inside the house...) had I been wearing the converse, the keds, my wellies, or just about any other commuting shoe I would have been impervious to the Exxon-Valdez of Pepsi spills. Instead I got wet, sticky feet.

I had to sit for the rest of the train ride with my feet suspended so as to limit the amount of Pepsi-shoe seepage. What was the worst was when I got off the train and had to walk on my heels from Track 4 to the Subway (and then to my office) trying not to actually step on the part of my shoe now inundated with soda.

I tried to console myself by thinking: "I'll go to JCrew and buy those leopard print ballet flats" but then the more prudent side of me said: "Not for $225 you won't" I went on the Gap's website to do some shoe scouting and found that they too have leopard print ballet flats (are we sensing a theme?) and they were only $49.50. Unfortunately, my local Gap didn't have my size. I settled for a plain pair of black ballet flats (with a RUBBER sole), down side is they are elasticized and that doesn't mix well with pregnancy feet-swell.