The Death of My Favorite Boots

This is mine and it means I'm important.

Tonight is the Hooters vendor show as well as the Hooters Pageant Preview.  From my understanding it's really a big drunkfest that disguises itself as work.  These are exactly the sort of work functions I totally endorse.  All jokes aside, the vendor show is a chance for anyone who sells shit to Hooters franchises and people who want to sell shit to Hooters franchises to hawk their wares.  I get to spend this time hanging at the Hooters Magazine booth were it's my job to look pretty and talk about being a writing Hooters Girl.  I will also spend part of the vendor show wandering around getting free things.  I like free things, even if they pertain to chicken.  You get extra points at the alcohol booths.

The Pageant Preview takes place after the vendor show and is everyone's first on stage look at the contestants.  The cool part is that the contestants aren't just in bikinis or cocktail dresses, they're all in costumes that reflect their hometown Hooters.  As a person that LOVES costumes I am really excited about this.  I can't wait to see all the costumes (and of course Tweet every one of them).

Of course since I do love costumes - and have an affinity for making them - our contestant asked for my help with her outfit.  I was glad to help and went to work making a rather cute fly fishing costume.  Even on the short notice she gave me, I think I came up with something pretty awesome.  I'm just good like that.

As part of her costume, I loaned her my very favorite Jessica Simpson boots that I adore above my entire boot wardrobe.  Having planned on wearing waders which were ruined by her poor decision to spray paint them orange, I gladly let her borrow my boots.  They had a sort of wader appearance with a nice two-tone brown suede.  It was a great second option.

Then she dropped the bomb.  During her flight her hairspray had exploded.  My boots were the only major casualty.  My $160 Jessica Simpson's are utterly ruined and I am totally devastated.  Of course she offered to replace them, but what sort of person would I be if I made her give me the money for something that was so clearly an accident?  I told her not to worry about it, but it still totally sucks.

Rest in peace, dear boots.  You lived a happy, albeit short life.