The Walk Of Shame is that thing a woman has to do when she’s stayed over at someone’s place and the next morning he can’t, or won’t, or she won’t let him, take her home. I was introduced to this term by a friend when he and I were going to work and saw this really decked out woman out walking in the early morning sun. She had on stockings, high heels, a short skirt and looked a little wobbly. “Walk of Shame, dude,” my friend told me.
I got out of the Army and moved into a college town. It was surreal how hard a date was to get in the Army versus how easy it was to get anything in a college town. Parties in the Army involved guys hurting themselves by jumping off of high places and into fire. College town parties involved getting women drunk. Take a Freshman class of women, a couple of thousand of them who have never been away from home before in their lives, let them have all they want to drink, and they are going to have some bouts of very bad judgment. The kind of bad judgment a young man just out of the military could at one point only dream about.
A woman woke up in my bed one morning, sat bolt upright, looked around in horror, and then got dressed on her way out and did not say a word. I heard the door slam and knew at that point the Walk Of Shame had begun. An hour later there was a knock on the door. She had gotten lost and had to come back for either a ride or directions. I was kind to her and gave her a ride. On the way back to the dorm she was appalled to learn I lived a half mile away from the college. She had simply started out in the wrong direction.
Then there was the woman who woke and was in a rage at what had happened the previous night. She was also in a panic because she was supposed to meet her fiancé for breakfast and was instead in some stranger’s bedroom. She stormed out of the apartment and was gone, I thought, forever. But as it turns out she left her purse. At that time I was living with a roommate who had a diabolical sense of humor. His opinion was she had acted in a rude manner so he told me he would get the purse back to her and he did. He put a few dozen condoms in it. He also put a hypodermic needle in it, some oregano in a plastic bag so it looked like pot, and an envelope with the message, “You were great last night! “ along with twenty bucks folded up into the note. Then he mailed it to the address on her Driver’s License which we assumed was her parent’s.
Remember the guy who enlightened me as to the name of the “Walk Of Shame”? Well, he gets the award for the All Time Embarrassing Walk for getting tossed out of a house where he was caught with a married woman. He was nude and in a strange town. The cops were amused at his story and took him back to the scene of the crime to get his clothes and to rescue the woman from her husband.
After that, I think he looked at the walk in a whole new light.
Fess up..Have you ever walked The Walk?
Mike writes regularly at his site: The Hickory Head Hermit
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