High heels are the devil Bobby Boucher

High heels are the devil. I love the way I look in them but within minutes my feet are killing me and I start thinking about my converse.

I hadn't worn heels in months but last night was ladies night and I really wanted to wear a pair of heels to class it up a bit. I dug out my red pair of heels from the back of my closet (Payless, of course, because I'm one classy but cheap lady). I bought them because they were cute and called "Comfort Plus". Good marketing ploy Payless.

I put on my red heels and thought "I can totally do this! This isn't so bad". I took off for the T and my feet were holding up pretty well. I then remembered that the Government Station T stop is closed so I'd have to walk from Park Street to Faniuel Hall. It's about a 5 minute walk which isn't too bad - except that I forgot about the bricks and cobblestones. My heels kept getting caught and I was trying very hard not to face plant.

I finally made it to Ned Devine's but at that point my feet were already starting to bother me. Clearly I needed to start drinking. I put back two Bud Lights and now it was time to dance! Ok, more like wobble back and forth because moving my feet hurt too much. The cover band was pretty good which helped take my mind off of my feet.

When the band would break all of us ladies would hobble over to the other room and sit for a minute. I was dragging myself around Quasimodo style but I was a trooper.

By the end of the night we were DONE. Once outside my friends took off their heels. I was not giving up! I would hobble to the T like a real woman! Pain is beauty!!!

Just kidding. I really just didn't want my bare feet touching the city streets. I was dying for a pair of comfy shoes. I made it through the cobblestone and brick obstacle course and got a seat on the train. Thank you sweet baby Jesus!

My feet are still hurting today. The heels are going back into the closet until I forget how much they hurt and do this all over again.