The Walk of Shame
I saw a girl this past weekend when I was walking through the city. She was all dolled up for a Friday night. Dressed nice, makeup, the whole deal. Only it was 11:30 on a Saturday morning.
Ah yes, the walk of shame.
It's easy to spot the shamers on a Saturday morning. They're still wearing their Friday best, but a few of the details are off. The shirts are wrinkled, the accessories are dangling precariously and there may still be an open fly. But mostly you can tell by the hair. That's the giveaway.
I never understood why they called it the walk of shame. Shouldn't you be happy about something like that? I mean, I know there have been times where you've woken up and you wonder how in your drunken state you guessed this person to be female since, despite some fairly obvious anatomical clues, she shows no signs of it in the morning. But (hopefully) these occasions are few and bar between.
Really, there are only a handful of reasons you should ever be truly ashamed of a drunken gropefest.
- You're married
- It's your cousin or other close relative
- You wake up covered in horse feed
- You're clergy
And so forth. You know when to be ashamed.
Once, just once, I'd like to see somebody (girl or guy) stumble out onto a porch at 10AM and start shouting, "I am the greatest!" while running down the sidewalk and holding up a mock championship belt. Just once.
posted by BJC @ 11:00 AM
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1 Comments:
Been there, done that...although I don't remember referring to it as the "Walk of Shame" (except for those rare occasions where I had trouble locating my car because I left it in another zip code).
In fact, the musical theme from "Rocky" was often playing through my head on the way home "the morning after."
Now I'm old, married, and have to wait for my wife to fall asleep before I can post great memories like this.
*Morris Workman
www.morrisworkman.com
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