The dreaded walk of shame. I like to call it walk of pride because I’m usually happy that I just got some, but I understand where the name comes from. I think my crowning glory was a Notre Dame football shirt, boxers, six-inch stilettos, and my teeny tiny dress from the night before stuffed into my clutch. Not to mention the fact that I was visibly hung-over and almost got trampled by a stampede of eight year olds. Not my finest hour. But let’s back up a little bit and address the entire issue: the morning after.
So you meet a guy, you go home with him. It’s sub zero temperatures (damn you, Midwest) but who cares because he’s got his arm around you in the cab and you’re feeling good. You do your thing and fall asleep wrapped in his embrace. Or attempt to fall asleep on the opposite end of the bed because he snores like a bear and keeps his apartment as cold as an icebox. You probably wake up before him because you’re in a foreign place, and you barely slept last night, and you’re exhausted, and all you want to do is crawl into your own bed and order Jimmy John’s and watch Scandal. So as you awkwardly lay there next to him, this is what’s going on in your head: I have to pee. Where did he say the bathroom was? I could use some mouthwash, too. Ugh, why did we decide to hit up Vesuvio’s last night? Garlic breath for days. Well, at least it’s helping with my hangover. Okay. I’m going to very slowly slide out from under the covers and find the bathroom. [Insert a good ten minutes of wandering the hallways and rummaging through his medicine cabinet.] Good, he’s still asleep. Okay. I’m going to smooth out my hair and put an angelic smile on my face so when he wakes up he’ll see how beautiful I am when I sleep. Okay. Wait. My lips are so chapped. Would he have chapstick anywhere? I’m just going to lean over him and check the– Oh, hi! Good morning! How did you sleep? Good! Yeah, same here. What? Oh, breakfast sounds amazing but I really ought to get going. Would you mind giving me a ride back? Yeah, that’d be amazing. Thanks! [You collect your belongings and begin the awkwardest five-minute car ride of your life.] So what was your major again? Accounting? Really? Fascinating, I’ve never heard that before. Yeah, I’m tailgating with my friends this weekend. Do you want to get my number, or– Oh. Um yeah, this is fine. Thanks! [Insert awkward sideways hug/kiss on the cheek/mumbling.] I survived. Okay. Now I just have to brave the walk across campus.
Not every morning after is like this. I’ve had mornings where he asks me to stay for breakfast and I end up spending all day reading in bed with him. I’ve also had mornings where I sneak out before the crack of dawn because I can deal better with shame and regret if the sun isn’t out yet. Just be as classy as possible and at the very worst, it’ll make for a good story at boozy brunch with your girls.
Xx,
Gemma
*need anonymous hook-up advice? Ask Gemma here.
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