Ladies, You Might Regret This
In the mornings I listen to Kiss FM, Charlie, Ricky and Melvin are hilarious and on more than one occasion I've laughed so hard I seriously considered pulling over the car "just in case". On their show they do a question of the day. The latest one was... The average woman begins to regret this 1 hour and 10 minutes after doing it... What is it?
So... many... jokes... must... not... be... crude!
Hmmm... time to contemplate a bit. Opening that second bottle of wine? Giving a guy their number? Eating a kebab on the way home from a night out? So many possibilities.
The answer however was wearing high heels. Yep, agreed!
That is how long it takes until you feel like your feet are going to fall off, or you wish that they would! I think it's a bit more complicated than that, I honestly think that feet have a mind of their own and really don't like being crammed into itty-bitty living spaces. That being said, I believe that an hour and 10 minutes is the time your feet have worked out for maximum punishment.
Let's say 30 minutes of that time is you wearing them round the house before going out... it's that time when you can't remember if these are the ones that turned you into a cripple the last time and you'll be able to tell if you walk around the house in them for a bit.
"No these weren't the ones." [Spoiler alert: They were.]
With 30 minutes to go, you leave the house, probably to get in a bus/taxi/train and travel for roughly 20 to 30 minutes. The left over time after this is exactly the amount of time it take for you to get a drink, start having fun and realise that there isn't anywhere to sit down in the bar/club.
Then as all women know, you start the shuffle, your feet don't hurt yet but you feel like maybe they've slipped in your shoe because your toes are a bit squished. So you start gently rocking from side to side on your feet to move them about a bit... can you hear that laughing? That's your feet. "It'd be a shame if your feet were to swell in this heat. Mwohahahaha."
BING! That is your 1 hour and 10 minute alarm call. You're feet know you're at the point of no return, any sooner and you might have turned back to change but you're at the event now, you're not going to leave to change your shoes and look stupid in front of friends. If you're sensible then you've packed those folding party shoes in your incredibly small handbag. If you've got big feet like me then you've found your smallest dolly shoes and crammed them into the bottom of your sensibly sized handbag and are now looking for somewhere to slink away to to change your shoes and hope no one notices you've shrunk.
But take pity on those who don't think ahead, those girls you see holding themselves up by the bar or on the dance floor, who have bravely decided to take their shoes off and lay their feet on the cold tile floor. Don't stand there for too long, that sticky floor might get you!
I don't have this problem now though, I have got to an age where shoes are now practical things. Don't get me wrong, I have some fantastic shoes that I will never ever wear, and in some cases, have never ever worn. Nights out now though consist of flat shoes and if I can get away with it, trainers. Thank you alternative clubbing scene with your inclusive dress code, you are truly a girl's best friend.
Wow, who knew I could waffle about shoes that much.
So... many... jokes... must... not... be... crude!
Hmmm... time to contemplate a bit. Opening that second bottle of wine? Giving a guy their number? Eating a kebab on the way home from a night out? So many possibilities.
The answer however was wearing high heels. Yep, agreed!
That is how long it takes until you feel like your feet are going to fall off, or you wish that they would! I think it's a bit more complicated than that, I honestly think that feet have a mind of their own and really don't like being crammed into itty-bitty living spaces. That being said, I believe that an hour and 10 minutes is the time your feet have worked out for maximum punishment.
Let's say 30 minutes of that time is you wearing them round the house before going out... it's that time when you can't remember if these are the ones that turned you into a cripple the last time and you'll be able to tell if you walk around the house in them for a bit.
"No these weren't the ones." [Spoiler alert: They were.]
With 30 minutes to go, you leave the house, probably to get in a bus/taxi/train and travel for roughly 20 to 30 minutes. The left over time after this is exactly the amount of time it take for you to get a drink, start having fun and realise that there isn't anywhere to sit down in the bar/club.
Then as all women know, you start the shuffle, your feet don't hurt yet but you feel like maybe they've slipped in your shoe because your toes are a bit squished. So you start gently rocking from side to side on your feet to move them about a bit... can you hear that laughing? That's your feet. "It'd be a shame if your feet were to swell in this heat. Mwohahahaha."
BING! That is your 1 hour and 10 minute alarm call. You're feet know you're at the point of no return, any sooner and you might have turned back to change but you're at the event now, you're not going to leave to change your shoes and look stupid in front of friends. If you're sensible then you've packed those folding party shoes in your incredibly small handbag. If you've got big feet like me then you've found your smallest dolly shoes and crammed them into the bottom of your sensibly sized handbag and are now looking for somewhere to slink away to to change your shoes and hope no one notices you've shrunk.
But take pity on those who don't think ahead, those girls you see holding themselves up by the bar or on the dance floor, who have bravely decided to take their shoes off and lay their feet on the cold tile floor. Don't stand there for too long, that sticky floor might get you!
I don't have this problem now though, I have got to an age where shoes are now practical things. Don't get me wrong, I have some fantastic shoes that I will never ever wear, and in some cases, have never ever worn. Nights out now though consist of flat shoes and if I can get away with it, trainers. Thank you alternative clubbing scene with your inclusive dress code, you are truly a girl's best friend.
Wow, who knew I could waffle about shoes that much.
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