How to Take Pride in Your Walk of Shame in Ann Arbor
You open your bloodshot eyes to the Friday morning sun bleeding through a fraternity house’s dirty windows. The pounding in your head coupled with the RUSH alpha beta potato chip t-shirt you’re wearing tells you that you won’t be making it to your 8 a.m. EECS discussion on north campus. You’re not too keen on sticking around till sleeping beauty in the twin bed with you wakes up. Slowly, and carefully, you stand, and the eight shots of fake tequila you did with a strange 40 year old couple at Cantina hit you. If you have to pull trig, you’re not doing it here. You look to make sure his roommate isn’t awake, replace his oversized boxers with a skirt that made home on the floor last night, find your heels and top and head out into the world.
You open the front door and a frat bro you know by face but not name elbows past you, giving you a strange look, the first of many. You let the sub zero Ann Arbor air come in around you, reminding you why you don’t make bad decisions. You remember that you refuse to use Uber because you hate Trump, don’t feel like downloading the Lyft app, and don’t hate yourself enough to take a blue bus. So you decide that you must walk. Taking your first step onto your journey, your dignity falls around you. Three steps in, you stop briefly to wonder how you were dartying outside in 70 degree weather last week, and if you should actually consider transferring to UCLA.
It doesn’t take long to realize that you are pretty much alone on this journey. A lone soldier, defenseless, and craving a bagel with lox from Revive. You look down at your hand to notice that you were tallying your drinks with a sharpie on your left hand all night – a token sign of a night gone wrong. You put your head down, eyes up, shuffling home as quickly as you can.
Not only are you about to run into your GSI, three guys you hooked up with freshman year, and a girl in your business frat walking past Espresso Royale, you’re about to do it in last night’s outfit, while suffering from acute hypothermia. Smile, but don’t wave, because don’t worry, they 100% saw you. Unfortunately, you look out of place without a Canada Goose jacket and a backpack this midterm season morning.
You curse yourself for living in Kerrytown as you survey the Diag ahead of you – you walk past a group of Diag preachers and Jews for Jesus and pieces of your evening come back to you. You remember everything from getting denied at Ricks to being claustrophobic at Garage Bar to sitting alone in Panchero’s to making the trek to the fraternity house you told yourself you wouldn’t end your night at but did anyway. You decide you hate people with dogs for being the sole reason anyone is in the Diag right now, just as the clock strikes 9:00 A.M and students flood around you. You almost made it without seeing your ex, eleven girls in your sorority, the president of that club you joined to add to your resume, and a pizza house delivery driver who knows you by name, brave soldier. Almost.
You arrive home, surrendering to the walk, promising that you will never do it again. Your roommate gives you that look as you pass her on your way to charge your phone, take 8 Advil, skip your 10 A.M, wash your face with holy water that your grandma sent you, and regret anything you put on your Snapchat story. This one is for you walk of shame, thank you for giving every blue bus driver, lonely soul, and student that pulled an all nighter at the UgLi something to laugh at.
WATCH: We made Malort cupcakes. They are bad.