The Walk of Shame

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Last Sunday, I was at Shopper's Drug Mart pretty bright and early in the morning when I witnessed one of the most hilarious walk of shames I have ever seen.

"But Amy, how do you know it was a walk of shame?" you ask. Here's why:

1. It was 9:00AM on a Sunday and she was wearing 5-inch heels and a skintight tube dress that barely covered the coochal region
2. She had wet hair and smeary morning-after makeup which indicates a shower in some dirty dude's apartment (no hair dryer + no fresh makeup to put on)
3. She couldn't find her money in her purse at the cash register and croaked in a barely there voice, "I don't know what happened...I had money last night...huh huh!"

What makes this a prize walk of shame? She was buying a jumbo size box of tampons. I don't know about you but I can't think of a worse scenario than spending a drunken night at some greasy Lower Sackville skid's basement apartment decorated with Scarface posters and assorted bongs and waking up the next day with nothing but a hooker costume, impossible to walk in shoes, no cash AND your period and having to do the awkward shuffle to the drugstore (dude didn't even drive her). Suddenly, spending Saturday night at home with Guitar Hero and frozen pizza instead of going out and getting blitzed sounds pretty good.

Because of my iron-clad morals and 24/7 class (I'm laughing as I type this) I have never had a truly bad, honest-to-god walk of shame, the kind that involves creeping out of some creepy strange guy's bachelor pad and slinking home. But I have had to take hungover morning-after bus rides home from friends' apartments, with the reek of rum seeping from my pores, hood up to hide my greasy hair, and big sunglasses masking my raccoon eyes. I've tottered onto the bus in slutty heels carrying a sparkly clutch and wearing a borrowed sweater over my tube top at 8 in the morning and dry-heaved the whole ride home while other passengers smirked or rolled their eyes. And it's not fun.

Without further ado, here is my official guide for preventing (or at least surviving) the walk of shame:

Bring money for a cab!
That's the easiest, albeit not the cheapest, plan. That way you can at least make an exit at the end of the night without having to spend an awkward night away from home.

Pack the essentials...juuust in case.
Even if you only bring a tiny clutch on your night out, you can fit a couple of things to make yourself appear like less of a crackho in the morning. A powder compact, a little mascara and lip gloss, or even a packet of blotting papers to sop up the greasies will help. You can use a square of TP in a pinch instead of blotting papers...and if you're hooking up with a guy who doesn't even have toilet paper at his place, you deserve to go home looking like a hot mess. Don't forget a hair elastic to help deal with your next-day rat's nest.

Use his stuff.
There are some things you can swipe from a guy's medicine cabinet in a pinch. Guy's deodorant is better than no deodorant at all! And while using a random person's toothbrush is pretty revolting you can brush your teeth with your finger as long as you've got some toothpaste.

Borrow (or steal).
You can always borrow a nice comfy hoodie, cardigan, or jacket to cover up your bar attire and get home. Given the choice between looking skanky or looking sloppy, it's up to you, but borrowing a coverup is always an option.

Sunglasses are your friend!
They cover a myriad of sins. The bigger the better!

Some nosy tool might make a dumb comment to you on the bus or train about having a "rough night" so if you have a response ready in advance, you won't stammer like a politician caught with his pants down. Just say something admirable like you spent the night in the hospital with your BFF who was giving birth, or you're on your way to a costume party and isn't the Britney resemblance just uncanny?

Check yourself.
Before you head outside take a good look at your shoes (do they match? are they even yours?), your bag, your behind, etc. to make sure there's nothing out of place. Are you wearing one ginormous chandelier earring while the other lobe is bare? Is there a McDonald's wrapper in your hair? Is your bag full of shards of a Heineken glass you stole from the bar the night before thinking it was the most hilarious thing ever? (Some of these have happened to me. I'm not going to say which ones). Even if you're scrambling to get the F out of Dodge, give yourself a thorough once-over to make sure you're decent. You never know who you'll run into, which is just another reason why having your alibi prepared is super important.

That's all I got. What about you? Have you had any horrendous walk of shame experiences? What are your tips for surviving the most embarrassing and uncomfortable of commutes home?

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  1. Bahahahha...I love your sunglass tip!! I've only had one...way back in the day...and I wouldn't call it a walk of shame because I definitely got out while it was still dark...but the next time I saw him was TOTALLY AWKWARD:)

  2. I think mine was a perceived walk of shame because what fool in her right mind goes to target looking like THAT at 10am? Either that or they thought I was a hooker.

    I was headed out for an overnight pre-wedding celebration with some friends. Yes, it just happened to start before noon. And I needed thigh-highs. *shrugs* I looked pretty damned good. At least I think I did. Fun times.

  3. Hahahaha, this post is great! I actually never did the walk of shame - I always made sure I got home when it was still acceptable to look like a hot mess, AKA still dark out, and always in a cab. And, if I was truly hooking up, I made the guy come to my house instead :)

  4. My only story involving the Walk of Shame wasn't even after a good night of knocking boots. I was out with my college "love of my life" the night before and we managed to flip my Jeep into a ditch on the side of a country road. That night I slept on her couch because I didn't feel like walking home at 3am. When I woke up and finally decided to walk home I walked into the hallway just as a girl was leaving the apt down the hall. I left the house to see four more girls leaving houses up and down the street. It was as if a nasty-skank alarm went off and for some reason it woke me up too (lets be clear... I am a man skank). I proceeded to see five or six more Shamewalkers on the way back to my dorm. I had a chuckle until I realized they all had sex while I slept on a couch. Not so much as a nip-slip. I was a sad and pathetic loser who couldn't get his dick out of the shrink-wrap in college.

    <3 you Mamie.

  5. I don't have my OWN walk of shame story (thank GOD) however, when I was just up in Boston 2 weeks ago visiting my sister her and her fiance told me the FUNNIEST story: One Sunday morning, the weekend of Halloween, they were walking to get breakfast at a very super cute and quaint breakfast joint. While alllllmost there they saw up ahead at the intersection none other than a PILGRIM doing the "Walk of Shame." Yes, you read that right, a pilgrim. Since it was Halloween weekend, people had been having parties, and this poor chap was stranded in nothing but a pilgrim costume ---

  6. i went to a small enough college where everything was within walking distance- so walking home from the bar (or home from wherever before the ass crack of dawn) wasn't a problem.

    but i learned to carry breath strips, flip-flops, and chapstick (removes smudgy mascara better than anything else) pretty quickly.

  7. Hilarious. Oh this brings back so many memories from college. Working the overnight shift at the front desk of my dorm on weekends was the perfect spot for walk of shame viewing. The best part was I got to see the girls leave looking hot to trot and then the same ones straggle back in at 7 am, looking like a streetwalker after a night in the lock up.

    As this was a weekly occurrence, it put a very strong desire within me to make sure I was never in that position. Mission accomplished.

  8. This is incredible. And excellent pointers to reference for years to come :)

  9. My worst walk of shame wasn't from a rando's house. It was during communion at church on New Year's Day. I was in high school at the time and my mother (who played good cop) thought that instead of ratting me out to my father (bad cop), she'd haul my hungover ass to church to make me suffer.
    As I sat in the pew not moving an inch lest the world implode around me, I tried to plan my escape because I was sure a puke situation was imminent. "Should I make a break for the side door at the front where the bathroom is? Or take the shorter route out the back and risk eternal damnation by ralphing behind the nativity scene outside?"
    Needless to say my mother sat beside me being Sumggy McSmuggerton and chuckling under her breath the whole time.