We’d just finished having lunch at Culver’s. Katie and Annie were hanging out with their cousin Brian, standing behind our table. Suddenly, I noticed an object flying across the room, aiming staight for a man eating at a booth. As he bent over to take a bite of food, the object zoomed past his head, landing behind his back. It took a second to register, but then I realized that it was ANNIE’s SHOE ! In horror, I rushed to the table to apologize profusely. The man and his kind wife just smiled as if flying shoes were a common occurrence.
Oh, the horror. If he hadn’t bent down to take a bite, that shoe would have hit him right. smack. in. the. head.
Poor Annie was mortified and hid herself inside my sweater jacket for the next 15 minutes—amidst stifled laughter at our table.