We kind of flipped out when we heard that Vince Clarke would be spinning at The Church. Vince is one of the founding members of Depeche Mode, Yaz, and also Erasure. He helped shape the world of electronic music, and I got all giggly at the thought of getting to dance to music with the man responsible for said music standing only a few feet away, making it happen.
I like to ham it up a bit when the opportunity to visit The Church comes up. I spent a significant portion of my adult youth there, and I acquired a sizeable collection of clothes appropriate for the venue. The remaining outfits and accessories that I have from those days now serve more as costume components, as opposed to club-wear like they were formerly. I selected my [ten year old] black platform Mary Janes for the evening, and we headed out.
Kit and I got there early so we could scope out the setup and see exactly what our VIP bracelets would get us. After a couple of drinks, my friend, Barry, arrived. He texted me to see where I was, and I got up to look for him. As I was walking towards him, I felt a flop under my right foot when I took a step. I took another couple of steps, and I felt the sensation of stepping off of my shoe and onto the floor. I looked behind me, and there stood one of my platforms, all by herself. The damn thing peeled right off of the top portion of the shoe! After we laughed for at least 24 minutes, I realized how inconvenient this really was, and I also felt a little embarrassed.
I knew that I realistically could not go the rest of the evening clunking around with a giant platform shoe on one foot and a ballet slipper-esque shoe on the other. When we made our way back to the table, I was able to successfully rip the platform off of my other shoe, so at least I was balanced out. I decided to share the experience with our friends, so I made it the centerpiece of our table.
I already had my last dance with Mary Jane, and I didn't even know it.
After walking around a bit, I found [what was left of] the shoes to be quite uncomfortable—my feet were sliding around inside of the leftover shells, and when I would reach down, I could actually touch my foot on the sides. This wasn’t working. I had no shoe alternative in my truck, and it was merely minutes before Vince took stage, so going home for more shoes really wasn’t an option.
Being a dedicated fun-lover, I went onto the dance floor with Barry, and we were dancing to old Erasure and Yaz favorites in addition to Vince’s awesome solo music. A few songs in, we were getting silly and Barry began unbuttoning his long-sleeved shirt to take it off, making it look like a strip tease. In an effort to return the favor, I decided to seductively slide off my “shoes,” I tossed them onto the dance floor, and we kept on dancing for another hour or so—even though I was only in socks.
It honestly was much more comfortable to dance as I was; attractive shoes often aren’t the most comfortable for hopping around like I do. When it was time to go home, I walked out of the club and across the parking lot [like a boss] in my socks. I wish I could have caught a glimpse of the bouncer’s reaction when he saw me leaving, but to be fair, this was The Church so I know he has seen far more bizarre things than a girl in no shoes. I am fairly certain that my socks contracted a strain of hepatitis that night, but it was totally worth it.