Peace In Our Time

Great strength, force of will, and an early cocktail must be gathered in times like these for a woman of my great social magnitude to continue on, but--to tell you the truth--it would be easier to say "Damn The Torpedoes" and go down. Fortunately, cool heads prevailed on Sunday and Latinos were able to have "their night" while the rest of the place went over the top.

There was one of those magic monents, though, this morning when I walked into my office and found a shoe (a rather large shoe) with a wallet inside. I sniffed and thought, "another Cinderella has lost her slipper" and later received a call: "Hi, I'm Jason and I received an email telling me to contact Alexis. I lost my shoe last night." "Yes, Jason, I have it. "There must be a good story behind it." "I don't even remember being at The Palace; the last thing I recall was being pulled out of Versaces's pool naked and my friends trying to put my pants back on. I guess we made it one block over there, but I don't remember."

"No worry we have the shoe here," and when he came in I so wanted to fit it on his foot. But it was Monday and so many things were going on (it was a very LARGE shoe). I did, however, come out with the shoe on a pilllow; it really seemed the thing to do. He was happy, embarrassed, whatever. It was a big shoe.