It was an early Sunday morning and I was making a quick grocery store run. As I was walking up the block, I spotted this woman sashaying her way across the street. She was wearing a waist-length bubble jacket with black spandex and high heel boots. Shorty was hella thick and as an avid booty hawker I had to take note. Plus, she was switching her hip extra hard and was walking in the middle of the street. Her walk was mean. At first I thought it was because she either knew she looked fly and was trying to draw attention or she just didn’t know how to walk in 6-inch heels. But the more I watched her, another thought crossed my mind: Maybe she got her back blown out last night and this was her walk of shame.
Now I didn’t know this woman from a hole in the wall, so I could be completely wrong in that last assumption, but she did have the telltale signs of a post-sex creep. It was 9 in the morning on a Sunday and the only reason most people are up that early on a weekend is to go to church. Needless to say, shorty’s spandex ensemble seemed more suited for a Saturday night house party than the House of the Lord. She definitely wasn’t headed to the grocery store in high heels, so chances are she was wore that get up to the club last night and got lucky. Now she’s strutting down the block on her walk of shame. Her jumpoff didn’t even have the decency to escort her to the car. I guess it was a wham bam thank you ma’am affair.
Whether or not shorty was taking the walk of shame, I figured it was a good topic for discussion. We’ve all been there at some point or other. A late night sex session spills over into the next morning and you’re stuck creepin’ out the crib in the same clothes from last night. One of the worst things in the world for any sexually active single is getting caught in club gear during sunlight hours. It’s not really a big deal for guys—we’ll wear that like a badge of honor—but females get it the worst. Chances are if a guy is walking around in hard bottom shoes or slacks in the morning isn’t gonna raise as many eyebrows as a chick in a cocktail dress. So if you’re caught out there all you can do is pray that no one you know spots you—especially not an elder, because they’ll give you that look-at-this-slutty-whore death stare.
What sucks even more is the walk of false shame. That’s when you crash at someone’s crib and didn’t even have sex, but you feel like everyone you pass thinks you got it in last night. Meanwhile, the guy/girl in question stayed on the couch or just had an innocent cuddle session. Doesn’t matter, though, if the streets is watching, people are gonna assume that y’all did the dirty deed and force you to make that walk of shame. Hey, maybe that’s why Raquel never wanted to spend the night when we first started talking. I knew one day it’d all make sense.
So has anyone ever taken the walk of shame? Is it worse for girls than it is for guys? Do guys even feel shame taking that early morning stroll from a lady friend’s house? Or do guys feel more empowered like, Yeah, I hit that? Should a guy always escort a female to her car or train station, or let her take the walk of shame alone? Do some females walk with an extra outfit to lessen the walk of shame? When was your last walk of shame?
Speak your piece…