I shoe-bombed Pakistan

Literally, actually. Yesterday I had lunch with Pakistani Consul General Syed Ibne Abbas. On the way out of the house, I grabbed a pair of Anne Klein python sandals -- with thick rubber bottoms and a patent footrest -- that I'd bought about five years ago at the Saks outlet yet hadn't worn in about three years. As I sat in Abbas' office, chatting about all the cool issues of the day, the consul general suddenly picks up his phone and calls in his secretary. She rushes in; he points to a small pile of blackish debris on his pristine beige carpet. With horror, I looked down at my shoes -- both soles were cracked and crumbling. With additional horror, I looked over my shoulder to see I'd left a trail of shoe bits through his corner office, down the hallway, all the way out the door of the consulate.

Then, as we walked out of the Westwood building toward a restaurant for lunch, my soles completely came off. Who knew rubber disintegrated? Especially on Saks-quality shoes? I know now... (Many thanks to everyone at the consulate for being so understanding in my sole-shattering moments!)