I had a pretty quiet Friday night this one just past. As a result, I was up early and utilised the time by going on a long, coastal walk, cutting back through the neighbourhood streets. And as I wandered, coffee shop in sight, I was lucky enough to witness not one, not two but three of my favourite ‘Saturday morning’ happenings; the mighty walk of shame.
One pretty (albeit a little smudged up and clearly still in last night’s clothes) blonde stood on the corner with her beau, apparently with a view to hailing a cab, but still engaged in a passionate embrace. Another emerged from a cab a few streets away, excitedly recalling the nights adventures to (presumably) a girlfriend on the other end of the phone. The third I saw as she exited an apartment block, shoes in hand, a little flash of undies visible as her ultra mini rode up her thigh, being gallantly carried (yes, carried) by her lucky suitor. And they say romance is dead.
Like most people, my first reaction was a little snigger. Self ritous in my work out gear (including those Kim Kardashian shoes with uneven soles that apparently burn 50% more calories), a full nights sleep under my belt and not a sceric of last nights eye liner in sight, I could not help thinking when I first saw these ladies “Oh, how embarrassing, they are SO obviously doing the walk of shame“
But then as I got to the third lady (yep, the one being carried) it hit me; these girls didn’t look ‘shamed’ at all. Indeed, they looked absolutely delighted, the sort of delight only bought on by a round of phenomonal shagging, where as much as you try, you simply cannot wipe the grin off your face as your mind continually goes back to the naughtiness of the night before.
It might suprise you to know, but (one very lucky Irish man when I was feeling particularly vulnerable after a terrible break up aside) I am not one for one night stands. I have spent most of my adult life in a relationship, and when I’m not, I have reasoned it just ‘isn’t my thing’. I have girlfriends that are all for it, and while it certainly seems to pick them up, as I have listened to them recounting their adventures as to ‘how on earth they got home when they woke up who knows where’ there has always been that evident thought of “Oh, how shameful for you’ (sorry girls, I love you).
But now, having thought about it a little more seriously, having viewed the evidence first hand, and having read a number of thought inspiring articles on the topic via a Google search (my favourite, an article from SMH by the lovely Samantha Brett, check out the readers’ comments, too; http://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/life/blogs/ask-sam/how-do-you-feel-after-a-onenight-stand-20101206-18m92.html) I can officially say my view has been changed.
I have always been an advocate for doing anything that makes you feel good, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone. Why should this be any different? If your in the mood for some lovin’ (and your vibrator is out of batteries), why not try a real life man. If what you’re after is a fun, commitment-free experience where the goal is pleasure alone, there’s no surely there is no reason not to seek that out.
Now, I’m not going to change my ways overnight, go down to the pub and drag some lucky man back to my lair after work (though it sure would make for interesting blogging) but I will be less judgemental on my Saturday morning walks from now on (would it be too much to approach these girls and give them a high five?).
And if next time I meet someone sexy on a night out and am ‘in the mood’, who knows?
Until then ladies, happy vibing
Naughty Miss Jones xx