Traveling in 6" heels

[Bubba136]

The rest of the family had already left. We were the last to depart. It was after 4 pm when I set the suitcases outside on the sidewalk and locked the apartment. Our annual two week 4th of July vacation at our condos at North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, was over for another year.

I loaded the luggage into the back of my Explorer and climbed into the driver’s seat. My wife, glancing down at my feet, asked me if I planned to change my shoes before we started the 3+ hour drive to our home on the other side of Charleston. I told her I had put all of my other shoes in our luggage so I would have to drive home wearing the shoes that I had on -- a pair of d’Orsay black patent pumps with 6¼ heels.

I started the engine, put the car in gear and drove through our development, turned left onto Highway US 17 at the stoplight and headed South for Georgetown.

Traffic was very heavy for a Monday afternoon, even for a day during the peak of the summer beach season, and it took us almost an hour to clear the city limits to the south of Myrtle Beach proper. Traffic began moving more quickly as we headed toward the beaches at the southern end of the resort area and Murrell’s Inlet. Driving in those great 6”+ heels was a snap. No problems at all.

We settled into our familiar driving routine, listening to the radio and talking about the latest editions to our family – our recently born twin granddaughters – who were far to young and tiny to make the trip this year. Jan, my wife picked up the cell telephone and called to check on my youngest daughter and the two new girls, telling her that we were going to arrive home at about 8 pm or later because of the unusual heavy traffic. As we finished the call, I glanced at the gasoline gauge and decided we would have to stop some where and get gasoline before reaching home.

Since it was already after 6, Jan decided that after filling up we should stop for supper at one of our favorite restaurants in this part of the state. A place well known for it’s "just off the boat," freshly caught seafood and the best stakes this side of the great divide. A place with a nice view to the east across the marshland and out to sea. With tables outside under the stars, it was just the place to wind up a nice vacation. No family along for the ride, just the two of us. A relaxing pause on the way home and own familiar bed.

I stopped at a busy gas station at the intersection of highways US 521 and US 17. I pulled up to a pump, shut off the engine and got out of the car. Only when my feet hit the ground did I remember that I was wearing high heels. Jan noticed my hesitation and called to me that I shouldn’t worry about people noticing my footwear since it was beginning to get dark and because my “Dockers” trousers covered almost all of my shoes. Just a little bit of the heel and the toe were showing below the hem of the cuff.

I walked to the pump, pre-paid for my purchase with a credit card, put the nozzle in the tank and began filling it up. While the pump was running, another car pulled up on the other side of the fueling island. The driver got out and began the process of pumping his gasoline. I notice one quick glance in my direction. No obvious notice of my shoes. The pump automatically shut off when my tank was full and I hung the nozzle back on the pump and put the cap on the tank. I walked the few feet to the front of my car, climbed into the drivers seat and drove away from the station. I remarked to my wife that I was feeling a little disappointed that no one had noticed my beautiful high heels. Jan responded that If I had had to walk into the store and pay for my gasoline I would have gotten a great deal of notice since there was at least 6 people waiting in line at the cash register.

A couple of blocks further south, we pulled up in front of the restaurant. The parking lot was only about a quarter full. Remembering that it was early on a Monday evening, a time when restaurants were notoriously not busy after a weekend, we were confident that my shoes wouldn’t turn many heads while we were here, either.

The hostess met us at the door and were given our choice of seating. Jan chose to sit outside on the veranda so we could look at the ocean while we ate. I was taken aback at how loud my heels sounded on the concrete floor leading to our table. One or two of the guys sitting at the bar glanced over, looked at Jan and obviously thought she was wearing the heels, and returned to watching the baseball game on TV.

I chose a chair in back of the table against the wall and Jan sat at a place at the front that offered the best view of the ocean. So far, so good. At this point I don’t believe anyone in the entire restaurant had noticed my 6” high heels. We ordered our meal and drinks, Jan got up and went to the “little girls room” while I paid attention to the game on the TV. Another couple about our age came along and sat down at the table next to ours. The guy spoke a greeting and took the seat at the back against the wall next to me. The woman sat in the chair next to Jan’s. My chair was in the deep shadows by this time and the guy at the next table didn’t notice my shoes even though the cuffs were pulled up rather high because I was sitting down.

Jan returned from the ladies lounge and spoke to the woman as she was sitting down and our supper was served. We enjoyed our meal and even lingered a while over a second cup of coffee, enjoying the soft evening breeze and watching the lights of the fishing boats returning after a day at sea.

As we got up to leave, I walked over to Jan’s chair and pulled it out for her as she stood up. The woman at the next table smiled, spoke to Jan and we walked away toward the desk to pay the bill. I asked her what the woman had said to her and Jan replied that she had just remarked that chivalry wasn't dead, after all.

On our way to pay the bill, we passed another couple walking out to the veranda. The woman was wearing heels. Her heels were louder than mine and, I guess, covered the sound of mine. After I paid the bill, we walked across the wooden floor and out across the driveway to our car. Just before we reached our car, another car pulled up besides ours and my feet were totally lit up in the headlights. I opened the door for Jan and, after she got inside, walked behind our car out of the light to the driver’s side. If the couple in the other car saw my shoes, I didn’t see any sign.

The rest of the trip was uneventuful. Traffic was fairly light through the heart of Charleston and we got to our place on the Savannah side of the river shortly before 10 pm. A trip that usually takes us just over 3 hours had taken almost 6…counting the two plus hours we stopped for supper. All in all, a great ending to a wonderful vacation. My feet weren’t even tired since I was sitting most of the time. You can bet that I changed into a pair of lower heels as soon as we got to the house so I wouldn’t turn an ankle while unloading the car.

Now, someone is sure to say that my feet wouldn’t have lasted 6 hours if I were walking all over the place. And, I agree. 6” heels are hard to wear for long times while walking around a shopping mall or city center. I don’t think I would ever wear heels that high if I were going shopping or taking a long walk. What I did discover is that, if I am careful, I can wear 6” heels in public without creating controversy.

Here is a picture of my d’Orsay pumps that I wore. My wife bought them for me from Sexyshoes.com last fall or winter (I don’t remember exactly when). I can walk in them with confidence. But, like I said, I don’t think I could walk a long way in them.

[shyguy]

Great tale Bubba, sounds like you had the perfect end to your vacation.

[5.5 Thrill]

Thanks for the encouragement. I intend tonight to do a drive-in movie with 3.5" heeled calf high boots on. A big first step for me. Until tonght it has been dark parking lots and sidewalks, no public allowed.

[muddypaws]

The rest of the family had already left. We were the last to depart. It was after 4 pm when I set the suitcases outside on the sidewalk and locked the apartment. Our annual two week 4th of July vacation at our condos at North Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, was over for another year.

I loaded the luggage into the back of my Explorer and climbed into the driver’s seat. My wife, glancing down at my feet, asked me if I planned to change my shoes before we started the 3+ hour drive to our home on the other side of Charleston. I told her I had put all of my other shoes in our luggage so I would have to drive home wearing the shoes that I had on -- a pair of d’Orsay black patent pumps with 6¼ heels.

I started the engine, put the car in gear and drove through our development, turned left onto Highway US 17 at the stoplight and headed South for Georgetown.

Traffic was very heavy for a Monday afternoon, even for a day during the peak of the summer beach season, and it took us almost an hour to clear the city limits to the south of Myrtle Beach proper. Traffic began moving more quickly as we headed toward the beaches at the southern end of the resort area and Murrell’s Inlet. Driving in those great 6”+ heels was a snap. No problems at all.

We settled into our familiar driving routine, listening to the radio and talking about the latest editions to our family – our recently born twin granddaughters – who were far to young and tiny to make the trip this year. Jan, my wife picked up the cell telephone and called to check on my youngest daughter and the two new girls, telling her that we were going to arrive home at about 8 pm or later because of the unusual heavy traffic. As we finished the call, I glanced at the gasoline gauge and decided we would have to stop some where and get gasoline before reaching home.

Since it was already after 6, Jan decided that after filling up we should stop for supper at one of our favorite restaurants in this part of the state. A place well known for it’s "just off the boat," freshly caught seafood and the best stakes this side of the great divide. A place with a nice view to the east across the marshland and out to sea. With tables outside under the stars, it was just the place to wind up a nice vacation. No family along for the ride, just the two of us. A relaxing pause on the way home and own familiar bed.

I stopped at a busy gas station at the intersection of highways US 521 and US 17. I pulled up to a pump, shut off the engine and got out of the car. Only when my feet hit the ground did I remember that I was wearing high heels. Jan noticed my hesitation and called to me that I shouldn’t worry about people noticing my footwear since it was beginning to get dark and because my “Dockers” trousers covered almost all of my shoes. Just a little bit of the heel and the toe were showing below the hem of the cuff.

I walked to the pump, pre-paid for my purchase with a credit card, put the nozzle in the tank and began filling it up. While the pump was running, another car pulled up on the other side of the fueling island. The driver got out and began the process of pumping his gasoline. I notice one quick glance in my direction. No obvious notice of my shoes. The pump automatically shut off when my tank was full and I hung the nozzle back on the pump and put the cap on the tank. I walked the few feet to the front of my car, climbed into the drivers seat and drove away from the station. I remarked to my wife that I was feeling a little disappointed that no one had noticed my beautiful high heels. Jan responded that If I had had to walk into the store and pay for my gasoline I would have gotten a great deal of notice since there was at least 6 people waiting in line at the cash register.

A couple of blocks further south, we pulled up in front of the restaurant. The parking lot was only about a quarter full. Remembering that it was early on a Monday evening, a time when restaurants were notoriously not busy after a weekend, we were confident that my shoes wouldn’t turn many heads while we were here, either.

The hostess met us at the door and were given our choice of seating. Jan chose to sit outside on the veranda so we could look at the ocean while we ate. I was taken aback at how loud my heels sounded on the concrete floor leading to our table. One or two of the guys sitting at the bar glanced over, looked at Jan and obviously thought she was wearing the heels, and returned to watching the baseball game on TV.

I chose a chair in back of the table against the wall and Jan sat at a place at the front that offered the best view of the ocean. So far, so good. At this point I don’t believe anyone in the entire restaurant had noticed my 6” high heels. We ordered our meal and drinks, Jan got up and went to the “little girls room” while I paid attention to the game on the TV. Another couple about our age came along and sat down at the table next to ours. The guy spoke a greeting and took the seat at the back against the wall next to me. The woman sat in the chair next to Jan’s. My chair was in the deep shadows by this time and the guy at the next table didn’t notice my shoes even though the cuffs were pulled up rather high because I was sitting down.

Jan returned from the ladies lounge and spoke to the woman as she was sitting down and our supper was served. We enjoyed our meal and even lingered a while over a second cup of coffee, enjoying the soft evening breeze and watching the lights of the fishing boats returning after a day at sea.

As we got up to leave, I walked over to Jan’s chair and pulled it out for her as she stood up. The woman at the next table smiled, spoke to Jan and we walked away toward the desk to pay the bill. I asked her what the woman had said to her and Jan replied that she had just remarked that chivalry wasn't dead, after all.

On our way to pay the bill, we passed another couple walking out to the veranda. The woman was wearing heels. Her heels were louder than mine and, I guess, covered the sound of mine. After I paid the bill, we walked across the wooden floor and out across the driveway to our car. Just before we reached our car, another car pulled up besides ours and my feet were totally lit up in the headlights. I opened the door for Jan and, after she got inside, walked behind our car out of the light to the driver’s side. If the couple in the other car saw my shoes, I didn’t see any sign.

The rest of the trip was uneventuful. Traffic was fairly light through the heart of Charleston and we got to our place on the Savannah side of the river shortly before 10 pm. A trip that usually takes us just over 3 hours had taken almost 6…counting the two plus hours we stopped for supper. All in all, a great ending to a wonderful vacation. My feet weren’t even tired since I was sitting most of the time. You can bet that I changed into a pair of lower heels as soon as we got to the house so I wouldn’t turn an ankle while unloading the car.

Now, someone is sure to say that my feet wouldn’t have lasted 6 hours if I were walking all over the place. And, I agree. 6” heels are hard to wear for long times while walking around a shopping mall or city center. I don’t think I would ever wear heels that high if I were going shopping or taking a long walk. What I did discover is that, if I am careful, I can wear 6” heels in public without creating controversy.

Here is a picture of my d’Orsay pumps that I wore. My wife bought them for me from Sexyshoes.com last fall or winter (I don’t remember exactly when). I can walk in them with confidence. But, like I said, I don’t think I could walk a long way in them.

http://www.sexyshoes.com/8265.jpg

:yummy:Great story,if it is a story. You have a fantastic wife to treat you like that.

[serravee]

you sure are lucky to have such an accepting partner