walk of shame

okay. so here’s the deal. i walked 35 blocks last night, from west 66th to 101st. upper west side. west end avenue.
actually, i walked a bit more, i cut over to go to broadway. so, 38 blocks.
all in all a long frickin’ walk.

this is what happened.

every three or four blocks — i had a strange, unsettling, uncomfortable weird memory jag (we’re talking over a ten year, or so, period).
let me share some of those memories with you:

huh, i slept with so & so in this building.
shit, i did drugs, bad drugs, in that building.
oh my god, i threw up in that lobby.
holy shit, i gave a blow job to so & so in that brownstone.
oh my god, that’s where i got robbed with whatshisname.
wow, that was a bad sex night.
whoa, that’s the block i had a bad, miserable fuck you no no no fuck you fight.
oh jesus, i don’t remember his name, but i remember the apartment.
oh, fuck, i did that there?
oh, no, she & i are no longer speaking.
ugh, that was a horrible night.
oh no no no no no, that was me. oh god, no. ugh.
i did what where?
every few blocks.
and then i got to the restaurant, and felt so awful, and so tired. and so shameful. i could barely stand up.
and then – THEN – i noticed a woman (who was sitting in a small group at a round table with other lovely looking people) looking – staring – at me and i thought oh sure, sure, sure… she probably knew me back when and i felt more shame & disgust and wanted to crawl into a ball & hide in a hole, when she smiled and pointed to my necklace and gave me a thumbs up.

oh thank god(dess).

and as i sipped my wine, i wondered (privately, not to the friends i was with) if everyone at the restaurant had a secret or two or three or four, or a memory or two or three or four that was lodged in their soul. maybe. surely. i mean we all do. bad moments, bad memories, bad experiences … we were young, foolish, wanted to be loved, wanted to be noticed, wanted attention. praise. some of us did bad things. dated bad people. wrote bad checks. wore bad clothes. gave blow jobs to strangers who later became hedge fund managers.

shame shame shame shame.

i drank myself silly last night.

Category: Uncategorized 4 comments »

4 Responses to “walk of shame”


    Blow jobs to strangers who later became hedge fund managers is the sentence of the month. Killed me. But remember dear girl, as Mr. Clinton will attest, blow jobs don’t count. So, you’re good to go. Nice necklace indeed.

  2. kristine

    maybe it was the “walk of enlightenment”…that being said, midlife memory loss isn’t all bad…
    thanks for making me spill my glass of wine…so, so funny

  3. Madge Woods

    This is so f…………. funny. I have those memories and try not to focus on them let alone for 38 plus blocks. I picture a broom and sweep them out of my mind. I only actually regret one stupid of f…….. with only one person. It was beyond awful but not dangerous or hurtful except when I look back and release it was totally inappropriate and good now be arrested for some kind of sexual harassment in reverse.

  4. PamelaJo

    We wouldn’t be were we are today if we didn’t have a least a few things in our past that we regret. That is why I for one will never go into politics. I can’t bear to think about some of them. I sure don’t want them blabbed out on every TV and Radio I pass.
    Thank goodness for small favors, and being anonymous.

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