Coke in my shoes
I was so excited for my Islands tortilla soup and my customary Coke with no ice (I like my drinks like I like my men: sweet, bubbly, and lukewarm, baby!). I was SO EXCITED. So I picked up my order and I was driving back to work when I took a turn. For the WORSE. My flaccid excuse of a cupholder just up and RELINQUISHED my drink and the next thing I knew, everything south of my ankles was drenched with tepid Coke.
Several thoughts ran through my head: “Oh nooo!” / “I didn’t even get to drink any of it!!!!” / “Should I turn back and get a REFUND???” (I don’t even know why I cared about a $2 refund at that moment) / “MY SHOES!!!!!”
If any of the people walking along the street at that moment looked up, they would have seen my anguished face, probably mouthing “Noooo!” I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to make it back to the office, pull over to the side of the road, or turn back around to Islands for my refund.
I pulled into the parking lot outside of work and assessed the damage. My poor caffeinated shoes! They were my newest and one of my favorite pairs. A cheerful orange-red leather lined with the softest suede imaginable, with a pert bronze bow at the toe. My upper lip trembled in a way that only the lips of first world women can.
I felt so mad. There was Coke everywhere, and none left for me to even dribble into my thirsty, angry little mouth. At that moment, I blamed the cupholder for its flimsy, floppy rubber arms, I blamed Islands for not using steel cups, I blamed myself for asking for a Coke to be added to my completed order, and I scrubbed viciously at the suede. I felt so mad that I opened the door and threw the cup down onto the ground. Then for good measure, I threw the cup lid out too.
I don’t know why that was my response. I felt so mad… I needed to litter! And afterwards I felt so guilty I decided I’d go out again when my shoes were sufficiently dry and retrieve the cup and lid. I think I will go do that now.
