It’s 8:37 a.m. when you wake up and look around, thinking, “Wait, that Southern Tide poster isn’t mine. Whose room is this?”
You roll over to see a maybe-stranger pressed up against you — and judging by what’s pressed against your back, he’s happy to see you.
Congratulations. From what it looks like, you got lucky last night. Hopefully, the sex was good because now you have to make your way across campus from his room to your own.
I lived on campus my freshman year, so any adult sleepovers I had required me to do a walk of shame. My first one is still the most memorable.
I walked from Lakeside Complex to Hume Hall — barefoot, because my shoes had broken the night before — in a men’s T-shirt and boxers. My hair was wet and tangled from the post-shack shower, my face was makeupless, except for the smudged mascara under my eyes, and my breath still smelled like whiskey.
It was the most stereotypical walk of shame to ever happen. It would have been bearable, except that it happened to be game day, which meant I had to walk past crowds of tailgating families.
The judgmental glares from parents of small children were fun, but walking past Fraternity Row and getting catcalls and high-fives from our esteemed alumni really made the experience worth it.
So, welcome to a new class of young and impressionable freshmen — I can’t wait to see you stumbling down Stadium Road in last night’s clothes. Here are some words I can offer you to make your walk of shame a little less shameful than mine was:
First of all, no amount of advice is going to make it seem like you’re not on a walk of shame. All I can do is try to make your post-coitus morning more tolerable.
If you have plans to shack, try to dress accordingly the night before. That might require forgoing 5-inch heels and wearing an outfit that looks good in the dark at Midtown and in the daylight on the North Lawn.
If you can’t find your clothes, (or you really just don’t want to wear that leopard-print miniskirt at 9 a.m.) borrow a shirt. We’ll still know exactly what you did — and your shirt will likely tell us which fraternity you did it with — but at least you’ll be comfortable.
Don’t even bother trying to downplay a themed outfit. Wearing a button down and boxers a la “Risky Business” early in the morning screams either, “I had sex last night,” or “I blacked out and passed out on a random couch.”
At least these outfits are entertaining for those who didn’t get lucky the night before.
To rid your breath of that “My night was filled with watered-down beer and sweaty body parts” smell, I recommend stocking up on some Listerine PocketPaks. Gum and mints work fine too, but the Listerine strips are the best substitute I’ve found for actually brushing your teeth.
Strategically plan your exit time, as well. Pay attention to class times and leave accordingly. For example, class ends at 9:20 a.m. and starts at 9:35 a.m., so that 15 minutes in between is a high-traffic window.
Wait to leave the comfort and nonjudgmental safety of the bedroom until the middle of class. That way, there will be fewer people around to see.
And most importantly, don’t take crap from anyone. Inevitably, a random passerby is going to glare, or smirk, or — my personal favorite — slow clap.
Don’t pay them any mind. Just because it’s called a walk of shame doesn’t mean you have to be ashamed. After all, they probably fell asleep on the couch, watching Netflix, and you got laid last night.
Who really wins?
[Robyn Smith is a UF journalism junior. Her columns appear on Tuesdays. A version of this column ran on page 6 on 7/15/2014 under the headline "The walk of shame — minus the shame"]
