Of Shoes and Parking

I have driven Husband’s car exactly three times. And, we were married for two years before I drove it the first time. This is primarily because husband LuuuUuuuUuuuvs his car. It is a Beemer, and if you ask him what constitutes his dream car he’ll point out the window at his car sitting in the driveway. Therefore, anyone who does not LuuuUuuuUuuuv his car with equal zeal is only allowed to visit occasionally.

The other night we went out to dinner. We arrived in the restaurant’s parking lot to find many, wonderful parking spaces available to us. There was only one problem. They all had cars in the spaces next to them. This meant, if Husband parked between them, the car was in danger of getting a ding if someone opened his or her car door open too wide. Shudder.

So, he parked where he always parks: Siberia. And, I got to walk in 4 inch heels much farther than anyone should ever walk in 4 inch heels. This did not seem to bother Husband. Nor did it occur to him (or me for that matter) to have me dropped off at the front door. Rather, I stewed about the true cost comparison of parking over walking in 4 inch heels:

• Chiropractor visit for the adjustment I’d need from walking in heels from Siberia to the Bone Fish Grille: $20 (I have good insurance)
• New high heels after the current ones wore out: $400 (You think those Christian Louboutins are cheap?)
• New pedicure for the big toe’s polish wearing off on said shoe: $45
• Tip for pedicurist for listening to my shoe woes and agreeing: $6
• Extra martini for a reward: $11 (It was the Bonefish, after all)
• Extra tip for waitress for listening to my shoe woes and agreeing: $5

Total: $487 All, in all, I’d say parking closer is cheaper.

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