Thursday, March 14, 2013

The Walk of Shame


So when I became single again in 2008, I took some time off from women.  Clearly, my radar was off and I was making poor choices in "qualifying" what constitutes "marriage material."

Reverting back to my college days when I had many female friends (whom I never dated), I found solace in the company of female "friends."  These were great friends.  They let me pay for everything...bottle service at Sutra and other hot O.C. clubs, nice dinners, sporting events, etc.  In return, I got the "pleasure of their company."

In fairness, a couple were truly friends...and still are today.  But by and large, I weeded out the bad ones and focused on the good ones.

Keep in mind that at the time, I was doing video production for Playboy TV (more on this in another post.)  By this time, I had seen literally HUNDREDS of girls naked and I'd like to say my standards were high, but in retrospect, I was just not ready for anything with anyone. 

Nevertheless, I enjoyed the company of my female friends.  As one of our favorite outings, karaoke events were weekly happenings.  One of our haunts was "Bleu" in Westminster.  This predominantly Vietnamese lounge was open to all on Wednesday nights.  I frequented it often.

On one night, a very adorable (albeit inebriated) young lady came in and joined our clique...let's call her "Tellie"...she looked barely 21, but turns out she was around 27.  By 1:30, she was more juiced up than Lance Armstrong so of course, the party had to continue.  Moving to another karaoke place down the street, the party continued.  She kept leaving the room to go get more alcohol and by 3:30, she couldn't stand up.  Being the stand up guy I am, I offer to drive her home.  Only problem was, she didn't have her current address on her ID and she could barely utter two words.  Being resourceful, I grabbed her phone and tried to dial her sister.  No answer.

So I brought her to my place, where I'd let her sleep it off.  She barely made it to my Living Room floor.  When I tried to pick her up and place her in my bed, she peeled her clothes off and tried to pull me down onto her.  Flattered as I was by this insanely drunk young lady professing her eternal love for me, I resisted the temptation and carried her to bed.  Along the way, she kept repeating the same few phrases, romantically charged sweet nothings that were hard to resist like " Why don't you love me?   Don't you find me pretty?"   Some people might think that smeared make up and a false eyelash stuck to one's chin is sexy, but it wasn't working for me.

If you've ever seen Animal House, you can appreciate the dilemma of the devil on one shoulder, the angel on the other, each with conflicting views on what to do next.

It's times like these that I curse my stepmother for instilling a sense of decency in me.  Then again, I'm not 23 anymore and candidly, I'm just too scared of the post-hookup drama and risks associated therewith.  Since I was completely sober, common sense got the better of me and I covered her up and plopped my butt on the couch.  I checked in on her around 6 AM, where I was surprised to see her so comfortable (and naked) on top of my $450 comforter (which has since been retired, for the record.)

At 7:30 AM, the frantic sister calls (I had left her MY cell phone number on the voicemail) at which time she informs me that I needed to get "Tellie" to work in 25 minutes.  To Tellie's credit, she bounced out of bed with a spring in her step, did the walk of shame to my car and I drove her to work.  She thanked me graciously and she was on her way.

I still saw her from time to time at the karaoke event and it turns out she's a sweet kid (women in their 20's are kids to me), just still hung up on the things many normal young ladies do in their mid 20's.  Come to find out she's mother of two and recently got engaged to a nice fellow.

Obviously, this evening could've gone a different way, but I'm very glad I did not succumb to the primitive tendencies of others of my species.  This could've gone very badly for her, had some other guy been selected to take care of her, a point I stressed to her when I saw her again.

As big as Orange County is, it's a small community...and word travels, so choose your actions carefully.

Opinions expressed are those of the author(s)

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