I hate crocs. I think that they are the ugliest shoes ever made, and the fact that they’ve caught on into a disturbing trend says a lot about our society today. I won’t object to nurses wearing them, since they’re “so comfortable” and everything, but when you start seeing Tori Spelling and Dean McDermott picking out tiny blue clogs for their unborn fetus, that the trend has exploded into an insanity that overpowers good taste.

My friend Andy wore crocs to work yesterday. With socks. In the middle of winter. “Yeah, you have to avoid puddles when you wear them, but they’re SOOOOO comfortable,” he told me. I began making fun of him incessantly. Brown clogs with socks, jeans and a button-down? (Or sweater? I can’t remember.) It just looked terrible, and the only thing more insane than crocs in the summer is crocs in the middle of WINTER, days after a snowstorm, when the streets are full of puddles.

So after ribbing him for a while, I get up, start walking, and hear a crunch.

My heel had snapped off.

My beloved, beloved black Bandolino ankle boots have been a mainstay part of my wardrobe for years. However, they’ve also been on their last leg for quite some time. I always wore them out clubbing in Florence, and while that didn’t damage them TOO much, it was the often mile-long walks back to the apartment over cobblestones that really did damage to them. Both heels have been coming loose for months — when I used to work 9 to 5 (ah, those were the days!) and took the commuter rail from Reading, I had to always walk carefully in North Station, because that slippery floor always put more pressure on the heel. Walking outside was always easier.

Since before I even started working in Boston, I’ve been saying that I needed to get them fixed at the cobbler’s, but I’ve never gotten around to that. Not a smart idea. In addition to the heels, the toes have been coming apart a little bit. Even so, I love those shoes!! They are so comfortable, they have a perfect 3-inch heel, and they’re perfect for my nice black pants with my ballerina tops and tank tops….

Anyways, that was karma like I had never seen before. Making fun of Andy for an extremely long time (much more than I usually do), and moments later, my heel is now coming apart.

I got a ride to South Station with Lindsey, and from then I just walked on my tiptoe. I could land on the heel if I did so gently. It was like the sole had come apart from the main part of the shoe.

When I got off at Davis, I continued the careful walking. I usually have a 10-minute walk home — let’s just say that it lasted a bit longer than I would have liked. As I walked, I began to hear an unusual tap-tap-tap sound whenever I stepped with my right foot.

Once I got upstairs to my apartment, I saw how bad it was — the heel was now only hanging on by a tiny thread, and had been turning and spinning as I walked. It looked like a child’s tooth that was about to come out — the kind of tooth that you keep in your mouth but push it around with your tongue, afraid of the pain if you just twist it out. That’s what it looked like.

I woke up today with my right knee in a lot of pain from walking half a mile on tiptoe. I think I’ll have to wear my most casual shoes — the ones with only a 2.5-inch heel. My only shoes without heels are sneakers, and I DO NOT wear sneakers.

Well, I’ve learned my lesson.

Don’t be mean to people, because karma will come back and bite you.

And get your shoes fixed at the first sign of trouble.