The Walk Of Shame

We’ve all been there. One minute, you’re giving him your best “seductive” look while drunkenly promising your friends you aren’t going to go home with him because you don’t want to seem ‘easy’ and the next, it’s eight in the morning and you’re doing your best to speak without opening your mouth lest you knock him out with your morning breath.

If you’re lucky he lives somewhere other than Norfolk or Suffolk terrace. Partly because there is nothing more unpleasant than waking up in the morning and feeling as if the sun is slowly trying to cook you like a roast chicken, and partly because those beds struggle to accommodate one person, let alone two. And don’t get me started on how difficult it is to crawl out of one without being seen. Even if your conquest doesn’t wake up, I can guarantee that someone you have a seminar with just happens to be their flatmate. They will see you. They will give you slightly creepy, knowing looks for the rest of the semester.

Walk of shame, stride of pride – the ritual return home after spending the night in someone else’s bed has many names and by the time we graduate, the majority of us will have at least one tragic W.O.S. story to share. But for those of you who are yet to discover the joy of walking through the Norwich suburbs in a badly-chosen mini dress at two o clock in the afternoon, allow me to share some pearls of wisdom.

The classy Walk of Shamer will call a taxi to chauffeur her home. I have it on good authority the good men and women of Goldstar are not only cheap, they don’t ask questions either. Especially when you are only wearing one shoe.

However, if you spent your meager funds on tequila the previous evening and the lucky man or woman happens to live off campus, the bus is always an option. The downside of this mode of transport is having to share a seat with a very clean, very well rested fellow student. In case you were wondering, yes – they have noticed the smell. And I’m sorry to say they know what is.

But it must be said, in order to truly commit to the Walk you have to do just that. And despite its negative connotations, trudging through Norwich, or even campus, has its benefits. If you get up early enough you can avoid the morning rush. Why not get first in line for a coffee at Cafe Direct and get a fiver from the NatWest cash machine before they run out? You might even stumble across a stray baby rabbit at this time of year.

There’s no reason not to make the most of this solitary pilgrimage. It’s a student’s rite of passage! Take the opportunity to hold your head high! And instead of cringing at the plethora of judging looks you will receive any time after nine am, remind yourself why you’re in this position. You got laid last night. Congratulations.

However, if this article hasn’t managed to make you feel any better about the time you had to cross the crowded square dressed as a slightly faded Smurf smelling strongly of damp student housing, you can always invite that lucky lady or gentleman back to yours.

However, a word of advice: probably best to make sure you’ve put your cuddly toys under your bed. And take that poster of Ashton Kutcher off your ceiling. I’ve been told it’s off putting.