- Softball splits doubleheader with Wagner in home opener
- Quinnipiac men’s lacrosse loses tight game to Holy Cross
- Quinnipiac women’s basketball eliminated by No. 1 UConn in NCAA Tournament
- Mutual respect
- Quinnipiac women’s basketball tops Miami to advance in NCAA Tournament
- Conor’s Column: Do the Bobcats have to live by the three?
- Chronicle Sports Staff makes 2018 March Madness picks
- Quinnipiac men’s ice hockey’s season ends at Cornell
- Quinnipiac men’s lacrosse cruises past Wagner, 11-3
- Feldman joins the century club
The morning after
Have you ever woken up, glared out your window and seen some disheveled, still drunk man or women try to walk back to their room? That would be the infamous WALK OF SHAME! This has to be one of the most embarrassing yet humorous ordeals of college life.
Your night starts off with a few cocktails and then finally comes to a crashing end in some random person’s bed, the next day. You wake up in the same clothes you partied in the night before, your makeup is still on, your teeth not brushed, and booze still running through your veins. Your hair is in knots, you have red marks on your neck, and you are not really sure where half of your clothes are.
No matter how stupid you may feel at this moment, you have to be able to smirk at the fact that you just spent the last few HOURS making out. No matter how hung over and nauseous you are feeling you always have that little tingle inside, knowing that someone found you attractive enough to spend hundreds of minutes touching, kissing, and enjoying every inch of your body.
The biggest downfall to this whole ordeal, though, is waking up, looking at the person next to you and thinking, “What in the hell did I do?” Wondering who in the world this person is would be even worse. What do you do when you look at the wasted mess lying next to you and you can’t remember their name?
Your tongue was down some person’s throat the whole night and you don’t even know what their first name is. That’s not a bad thing sometimes, this means that the next time you see them on the street you don’t have to say “Hi” because you don’t even know who the hell they are.
The funniest part about a walk of shame is looking at what’s their name, and saying “Well OK, that was fun, I think I’m going to go now.” How pitiful is that? You can’t look at them A) without giggling and B) because your breath could kill a horse at this point. You collect your shoes, socks, and whatever other article of clothing that is hanging from the lamp and leave through the nearest exit.
You finally get back to your room and are bombarded with the questions you hoped to avoid. “Where have you been?” or “We didn’t see you at all last night, where did you go?” Now in your head you are thinking, “Listen you idiots where do you honestly think I’ve been? Look at me! I look like I’ve been hit by a truck and I didn’t sleep in my own bed!” But there is one piece of satisfaction you can revel in, you made out with someone last night and they didn’t!
The walk of shame is one that we have been practicing for since our very first steps. It’s the humiliation and odd enthusiasm that makes each one memorable. So next time you walk out of someone’s room, squint at the first sign of light, and trip over every step you take hold your head up high and know that you just got a piece! (Even though you would rather forget!)