A guy walking back from uptown on a Sunday morning, carrying his Sperry’s is hardly ever feeling “ashamed.” No, he’s feeling accomplished. You know why? The answer goes back to how we’re programmed.
Think about it–you’re at Brick Street with your girls when you see a somewhat sleazy looking guy is hitting on your friend and she is (for some odd reason) flirting right back. Your gut reaction is to get her out of the club and into some PJs to watch Disney movies for the rest of the night. Admit it, we’re all guilty of some major cock-blocking at one time or another. Our argument is always the same – “You’ll regret it!” or ‘I’m just trying to save you from making a mistake!” or my favorite, “Ew, why?! He’s gross!”
What about the sleazy guy’s friends on the other side of the room? Why, they’re encouraging, nay, physically pushing him toward your friend, praying that their buddy is finally going to get some action that night. Unfortunately for the male species, we dutiful friends of the “hot biddy” are always going to be there to thwart their noble attempts at getting her in the sack.
Let’s reevaluate this. Let’s pretend that your friend slathers herself in Crisco and is able to escape your protective grasp to go home with Mr. Sleazy. The next morning when she’s wiping off her mascara and cradling her Manolos all the way down slant walk, she’s going to be feeling ashamed – because of you. Not because of the tour group of potential freshman who are gawking at the girl wearing a pair of stripper heels and a dress with a slit “up to there” at 11 AM. No, she’s terrified that her friends are going to judge her when she gets home. You were the one who told her it was wrong and that she’ll regret it. Well guess what? Now she’s regretting it. So next time, don’t text her the next morning scolding her for her so-called “lapse in judgment.” Instead, clap her on the back. It’s time to turn around the double standard that if you hook up with a guy, you’re automatically labeled as a slut, and the guy’s a player.
Newsflash: It takes two to tango! I have a proposition for the female population: let’s support our fellow woman. And next time you’re on your way to church the Sunday morning after, don’t judge “that girl” you see. Congratulate her. When she’s passing, give her one of those complicated handshakes that guys do to show her your solidarity.
And what if it’s you who is “the friend” in this whole scenario? Well then I would just have to salute you. Take off those damn heels that are killing your feet and celebrate by throwing them in the air. Strut your Stride of Pride.