Heels get a bad rep. Not from an aesthetic standpoint, because of course everyone knows the right pair of heels make an angry bridge troll look like a red carpet diva. It’s magic. They make your feet feel like you are being tortured, but it makes your soul feel like you are truly free. Your butt gets an instant lift, your legs look a mile long, and I swear it straightens your posture better than any back brace could. Heels are the icing AND sprinkles on the cake on any going out outfit. You won’t catch me out in flats. I need heels to complete my outfit and also for an excuse to go home early.
Going out with the girls is what keeps me going. I know I can get through any week as long as there is a night out at the end of it. Knowing that there is a vodka sprite and open dance floor gives me the motivation to push through any hellish homework assignments or the worst day waitressing. As soon as the weekend rolls around and I start to plan my outfit in my head, it has to be just perfect. A dress that sexy, but not slutty. Makeup that is dramatic, but not scary. And heels that I can walk in, but will send me home before Bethany blacks out and starts fights with everyone.
Every moment I don’t spend with my friends is a moment wasted, especially when that moment could be spent sipping drinks and standing around waiting for guys to hit on us. There is no place in the world I would rather be than with my friends. Except maybe in my bed. Going out is fun and all, but when we don’t leave the house until 11, it gets a little rough trying to stay up. But of course I would never admit that. I’d hate myself for ever thinking that I would want to leave when all of my favorite people are in one place. I love to dance and I love my friends. So of course I want to stay. But, you know, these heels are killing me and I don’t want to ruin anyone else’s night. I’m doing everyone a favor by going home and putting on sweatpants and laying on my couch. It’s in their best interest that I go home early.
There are ways that I could cope with the incredibly unfortunate situation that I seem to always be in. I could wear flats or at least shorter heels. And be less hot than everyone else? I think the fuck not. I’m going to strap these babies on and strut my shit alongside everyone else. There is nothing stopping me from spending all night with my friends while they get progressively drunker than me and I have to take care of all of them. I can’t wait to have to keep frantically looking around to make sure all of my friends are still visible. Wait, what time are we going? Will the bar have seats? It’s just these heels are so high. You know what? I think I’ll just stay in tonight..
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