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8d (edited) • Life, Bali & Nami Bits
So I DID give her the benefit of the doubt…
…but NOW I’m thinking there were some SLEAZY ASS TACTICS at play here…
So this morning I go for breakfast, as you do here in Bali…
Kick off my sandals outside…
Go eat my breakfast…
NOM FRICKING NOM NOM.
Living my best little scrambled tofu life.
I come back out…
WHAT THE FCK?
WHERE ARE MY SHOES???
Like…MY ACTUAL SHOES.
Gone.
Vanished.Disappeared.ABDUCTED.
So naturally I lose the plot a tiny little bit.
I’m looking under tables.
Around plants.Questioning staff.Questioning humanity.Questioning whether I accidentally ascended barefoot into another dimension…yup
BUT HERE’S THE THING…
I ALWAYS leave them at the door.I’ve been going to this place for TWO YEARS.
And sitting there…ALL ALONE…like some sad little abandoned ex…
…was a pair of BROWN sandals.
Kind of like mine.But also VERY NOT LIKE MINE.
Mine are BLACK.
Cute.Cork.Sexy little vegan sandals. obvs
These were brown leather-looking ones and honestly…
I DON’T WANT YOUR SKANKY ASS BROWN SANDALS, SUSAN…. (I know can u feel how serious I am about this)
GIMME MY BLACK ONES BACK.
So I ask where the lady went who was sitting there.
“Ohhh she left.”
OH DID SHE NOW?
Now listen…
Have YOU ever tried putting shoes on without looking down? (Yes I practiced)
It’s kind of difficultAF. Go ahead give it a bash, film it show me…
So at SOME POINT this woman had to notice she’d suddenly transformed from:“brown sandal lady”
to
“Mimi Ramsey’s black sandal era.”
And I thought…Ok…
Maybe honest mistake.Maybe she’ll realise.Maybe she’ll come back in 10 mins all embarrassed and apologetic.
NOPE.
WE ARE NOW NEARLY TEN HOURS IN.
No return.
No phone call.
No message.
No:“Hey, slight issue… accidentally stole your footwear.”
NOTHING. NAFF ALL…NOT A TOFU SAUSAGE
And the thing that’s making me EXTRA RAGEY TO DA MAX…
These sandals are hard AF to get here.
I WAITED TWO YEARS FOR THESE BAD BOYS.
TWO DAMN YEARS.
Do you know how attached you become to sandals after two years in Bali?
Those things have BEEN THROUGH IT with me.
Rain.Scooter rides.Breakdowns.Dodgy pavements.Emotional support footwear.
And now they’re just OUT THERE…living another life with some random woman.
Honestly at this point I hope my sandals are happy together.
BUT STILL.
Loads of people are saying:“She stole them.”
DO PEOPLE ACTUALLY DO FCKEN THAT???
Like totes???
Is there a black market sandal ring operating in Bali that I don’t know about???
Because EVEN IF it was an accident…
SURELY you’d ring the café and say
“Hi yes, hello, slight update… I’ve accidentally gone home in another woman’s shoes because apparently I dress my feet blindfolded.”
BUT NO.
And NOW…
For the rest of my life I’m gonna be on a full blown SHOE HUNT.
A barefoot witch hunt.
I’m gonna be staring at EVERYONE’S FEET in Bali like:
“ARE THOSE MY FCKING SANDALS???”
No one is safe.
Not tourists.Not yogis.Not smoothie bowl girls.Not Susan.
If I see black Corticas on your feet…
WE RIDE AT DAWN.
MORAL OF THE STORY:
Trust no bitch around your sandals.
7
16 comments
So I DID give her the benefit of the doubt…
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