Mini homage
The only gift from my ex that managed to escape the donations bin (and by donations bin I really mean donations bin, not a trash can I set ablaze) was a pair of brown and blue Onitsuka Tigers that I particularly liked.
Tonight I'm going to a secret party that's being held in what Gaël calls "the guts of Paris." Apparently we're going to have to trudge through knee-deep water to get there, so I've been instructed to wear a pair of shoes that I don't care about.
Had I known I'd be trekking through Parisian sludge I would have packed some galoshes or something, but the airport is what I imagine Hell is like so I tend to bring as little with me as possible when I travel.
It looks like this is the end for my Tigers. If you ask me, it's a good way to go.