Hey, You!

Shoe Envy

You were the stupid bitch standing in the parking-garage stairwell holding the broken platform sandals. We were a group of six girls heading on up to a bar. You screamed to my two girlfriends as they passed you, "Geez, bitches, could you walk any louder in those damn shoes?!" We ignored you but gleefully laughed our asses off when we walked out two hours later and saw you being escorted in handcuffs by six of Huntington Beach's finest down to the police substation. You were barefoot, and one of the cops was holding your stinky cheap sandals. I only wish I knew what you did and saw the arrest, but the sight of you crossing Main Street while being taunted by lines of drunks waiting to get in bars was sweet enough. Hope you enjoyed your Saturday night as much as we did.

Send anonymous thanks, confessions or accusations—changing or deleting the names of the guilty and innocent—to "Hey, You!" c/o OC Weekly, 1666 N. Main St., Ste. 500, Santa Ana, CA 92701-7417, or e-mail us at letters@ocweekly.com.

 
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