My sister works at Dolce. The one at Arrowhead closed down, so I had to drive to Scottsdale. I wasn't familiar with the area, so I tried to pay attention when I parked in the parking garage and then walked to Dolce.
Got my Brazilian Blowout Keratin treatment done (for my frizzy, uncontrollable mop), and then walked back to the parking garage. Couldn't figure out where the stairs were to get up to the second floor. On the outside of the building, I could see the stairs, but it wasn't the entrance. There was a cement wall that was eye-level, and then the stair railing was above that.
I weighed my options. Could walk around and try to find the beginning of the stairs....or I could just grab the stair railing and hoist myself up the wall.
I hoisted.
I was doing pretty well until I swung my second leg over the stair railing. My black flat slipped off my foot. I checked the floor, hoping the swinging motion was enough momentum to carry it over to my side of the railing.
No such luck. It was five feet below me on the street.
I stared at the shoe for a moment. Tried to levitate it with my mind. I still don't have telekinetic powers. Bummer.
I weighed my options again. Ask for help? Leave the shoe?
I started to climb back down to retrieve my traitorous shoe. A nice gentleman walking past yelled that he would get it for me, ran over, and tossed it up. I thanked him. He told me what I was doing was a "neat trick."
Yep, and I was doing it with fabulous hair.
