Jessica wrote last night about “The Walk of Shame.” Jessica is really smart, so I know she’s not just spewing gobbledygook, but I have absolutely no idea what she’s talking about. Shame? Why would there be shame?
Anyone (who is up that early in the morning) can spot them from a mile away. The signs are obvious: they’re up earlier than anyone should be on a Saturday morning, they’re wearing inappropriate clothes, and they’re still in full (albeit, messy) makeup. And, most telling, they’ve the “I can’t believe I went home with him! What did I just do?” guilty look on their face.
Huh? Guilty look? Is me high-fiving strangers a guilty look? What the hell are you people talking about? Why are you having sex at all if you’re going to slink around feeling guilty about it? That sounds awful. Don’t do it if it’s not fun.
Look. There are two kinds of sex. There’s the kind where you’re in a committed relationship, and you love each other very, very much and you want to check in places on foursquare together and carefully plan the first time you make love. And that’s really nice. And then there are times where you give into lust, and it’s crazy and fun and amazing. And if you’re going to do that, it should make you feel like the cat in the above picture the next morning. Joseph Gordon-Levitt, I’m going to let you take it from here, suffice to say, this is what your walk of awesome should look and feel like: