Cat in Heels

Strange things happen to me on a semi-regular basis, but it’s usually not bizarre enough for me to even notice until someone else points out the weirdness. This weekend was so damn strange though that even I took pause at one point. It was the point that involved my shoes. It was Darling Husband’s birthday on Saturday, and after getting together with the family earlier in the day, we met some friends and went out for some drinks at night. We chose the bar we almost always go to (and where we met), are friends with the bartender, and can relax. It’s kind of like our punk/metal version of Cheers. Of course the universe had other plans. As the evening was hitting its stride, drinks were flowing, people were loosening up, dancing, talking and having a good time, I was suddenly pulled outside because one of my friend’s had fallen and hit his head, and he was bleeding. That’s never what you want to hear while you’re half in the bag. I joined the group of people examining the g...