Dudes. I have a blister from my big toe, aaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllll the way across the ball of my foot to my middle toe. It is very much gross.
Amazingly, it doesn't hurt. Just looks 10 levels of funky.
At least the shoes I wore to dinner last night looked cute.
I heart fashion. I really do. That said, I have this amazing ability to pick out shoes that are, hands down, literal torture devices. OH SURE, they look all cute/sexy/funky/cool, but there always comes that inevitable threshold in the evening where I realize that, if I take one more step, the blister will pop, the arches will give out, the toes will 'xplode through the front of the shoe, or I will simply collapse to the floor. Happens all the friggin' time, y'all.
Case in point - Corsica. (I start my story this way for my man-friend's benefit, who is no doubt peeing his pants right now...)
So yeah. Went to Corsica on vacation with my fella about 6 years ago. Took 1 pair of shoes with me. 1 pair. They were very cute, very funky, and brand new. BIG mistake. Corsica is a little island in the Mediterranean (think the birthplace of Napolean) and is just about the hilliest motherfucker I've EVER laid my lil' piggies on. You walk uphill both ways in Corsica, it is NO joke.
So, by midway through day 1, I had the most GARGANTUAN blisters of all time across the backs of BOTH heels. Excruciating, painful, horrendous blisters from h-e-double-hockey-sticks. Suckage beyond belief. And the kicker (no pun intended) was that the shops/pharmacies/restaurants/banks/grocery stores/carts/vendors in Corsica maintain the most random-assed hours of all time. It's like getting the ball through the windmill at Putt-Putt getting into one of those shops, seriously! So, not only did I have blisters the size of a small dinner plate, I could not for the life of me figure out how to get bandaids for them.
So what did I do? Buy another pair of shoes, of course! My brilliant idea was to buy shoes with no backs. Okay, so in the world of backless shoes, perhaps you're thinking clogs, or flipflops, or some other reasonable, comfortable shoe. Right? That's what you're thinking, right? Well, not so, my friends. NO. I pick the cute, sassy, 4-inch, open-toed wedge shoes made of VERY TOUGH leather. You can see where this is going, no doubt.
That's how long I lasted.
After one hour, I not only had the dinner plate blisters, but now had a lovely little series of 10 matching blisters across each of my toes. At that point, I couldn't even put my feet NEAR the old pair of shoes. My feet just weren't having it. In fact, they saw the old shoes and shrank up ala the Wicked Witch of the East.
Back to the shoe store. Reasonable pair of ballet slipper-like shoes were purchased. Story over.