Walking. It's a great thing. We learn at a young age how to walk, usually after we learn to crawl. What we never learn is how to "perfect" the walk of shame. No matter how many times we practice, the walk of shame is never graceful and never flawless.
At this time I'd like to take the opportunity to warn you. Nothing below is graphic, but may be inappropriate, so if we are related and you might get uncomfortable knowing the below, please stop reading now, close the window and walk of shame from my page. Gracias.
In college I used to make guys stay at my place. I NEVER stayed at their place. I refuse to do the walk of shame. I've seen so many people trek down the street come morning time, makeup smeared across her face, clothes in disarray (or entirely off), and sky high heels encouraging the teeter-tottering that we should've left at the playground in preschool.
In my post-college days it's been a lot more difficult to make sure the guy stays at my place. It's not like we all live a few blocks from one another and can run home before class/work. I recently had a very embarrassing walk of shame. Obviously I'm going to tell you all about it.
So I was out with this guy I'd been dating for awhile. (And now I'm switching to the present tense - sorry, Ms. Wolfe. Hey, at least I'm acknowledging it.) I'm wearing tan ankle bootie heels, dark skinny jeans, a super cute black sequin top that Taylor Swift** picked out for me, and a leather jacket. Not to toot my own horn (I'm actually afraid of honking my car horn, FYI), but I looked pretty hot. We went to a few bars with friends and then headed back to his place and passed out. We woke up abruptly to the dog barking like crazy, and his roommate banging on the door -- "Are you ready?" He looks at me and it's obvious he has no idea what she's talking about.
All of a sudden it rushed back to him -- they had an event that day. It was not the week after, as he thought. Nor was it scheduled for 2pm like he thought, but for 11am. His roommate screams again, "hurry up! People are already here!"
PEOPLE WERE ALREADY THERE. So I put on my big girl pants (metaphorically speaking), put on my actual pants and my actual sequin shirt, attempted to fix my hair, and walked, hand in hand with boy, into the hallway. (I'm friends with all the roommates so it wasn't exceptionally weird, except that they didn't expect to see me there at 11am on a Sunday.)
Seeing as I'm quite an awkward person and am always trying hard to be unawkward (yeah that was awk), I walked into the hallway and screamed "HEY GUYS!" I may have made it worse. Yes, in retrospect, I definitely made it worse. "Oh! Hey!", they all said. Yes, climatic. I know.
Boy walked me out to my car. I told him I used to refuse to sleep at the guys place, for this exact reason. He laughed. I don't think he knew I was serious. And I was. Serious.
Got in my car and naturally called Joan right away to tell her about the most awkward walk of shame I've ever had. Good news, I only had to walk a short way to my car. Good news, no smeared makeup. Best news, I'm not a hoho (also not Santa) because I'm dating this guy.
*Fank you, Aerosmith.
**Taylor Swift is a code name. The real TayTay did not pick out a shirt for me. Real Taylor, do you read my blog? Would you like to pick out a shirt for me?
