You meet a cutie at the bar. You go home together and things start to get a little steamy. You make your way to the bedroom, probably undressing each other as you go. You get into the bed and get ready for a passionate night of fun.
But once it starts, you realize how weird this is.
You’re both doing what you think will work, but neither of you are in rhythm with each other. You’re both trying to get yourself the most pleasure so neither of you is really thinking about the other person. Someone finally finishes and you both just lay there awkwardly, not knowing whether or not to leave or to cuddle.
If you do decide to leave, you grab your clothes and probably go to the bathroom. You say “thanks” or “see you around” or something else non-committal and try to leave with a little bit of dignity. You escape back to your place where you can wash off the shame and go to sleep in your own bed.
If you decide to cuddle, you get stuck in weird positions trying to get comfortable and attempt to fall asleep next to some stranger you’ve never met before. You wake up in the morning, neither of you remembering each other’s name, and awkwardly try to get your clothes on so you can escape the embarrassment and go home. You say “thanks” or “see you around” or something else non-committal, head out the door and on your way home, and try not to make eye contact with anyone who might realize you’re wearing the same clothes you were when you went out last night. Thus how the phrase “walk of shame” came to be.
For the next 24 hours, you try to pretend like it didn’t happen and hope that you never run into this person again. You also try to avoid any of your friends who might have seen you leave with your one-night lover so that you don’t have to deal with their endless interrogations.
After awhile, it becomes just a funny memory, and you can joke about it with your friends and not feel ashamed about it… Well, as long as you never run into them again.