Not to knock my own University's hustle, but the University of Maryland is in the middle of a ghetto. How ghetto? Not Baltimore ghetto, but ghetto enough that I went to our local mall yesterday, Greenbelt Plaza, and after approximately five minutes, wished I brought my prison shank. (I made it in camp in 5th grade out of a toothbrush...fo shizzle). Think I'm just being paranoid? Does your mall have its own police precint inside the mall? Ours does. I think it's across from Auntie Anne's. None of this has any relation to today's post, but it's my blog and I'll be tangential if I want to. Anyway...

I was driving to class this morning (because I am way too lazy to walk) and happened to glance out the window to my right to see one of my roommates, and the star of my earlier post Alcoholics Onymous, stumbling along Fraternity Row, still wearing last night's clothes, on his way back to our apartment. While on some level I inwardly applauded my roommate's innate ability to charm his way into sophomore's sorority rooms night after night, even more than that, I laughed at his sorry state. This time tested tradition, as many of you know (and have probably even engaged in yourself) is known as The Walk Of Shame.

As I write to you all at 10:31am, both men and women on campuses all across America are putting on their shoes, last nights bar attire, ruffling their hair, and preparing to start their own shameful journey. For some, the shame is inherent in "the walk", and has nothing to do with the person they woke up next to. But for the others...(cue the Bram Stoker playlist).

Personally, I think its worse for girls. As a guy, if I were to run into someone I knew mid-walk of shame, I don't think it would phase me. If I ran into a guy I knew, I'd probably throw him a cocky head nod of acknowledgement as if to say "Oh yeah, I got some. You know it. I know it. Who's the man?" If I ran into a girl I knew, I would pretend to be embarassed in an effort to appear cute, but really I'd be thinking "Oh yeah, I got some. You know it. I know it. Who's the man?" That's just me.

But if you're a girl, I could see how the walk of shame kind of sucks. Sloppy make-up, hair a mess, high heels in hand. No fun for anyone involved. Especially if you're one of those girls who doesn't have your A-game on first thing in the morning. If you're lucky, you might get to borrow some old sweatpants and flip flops or something, but flip-flops in winter might just up the ante on the ole' shame factor.

My favorite time of year in terms of the Walk of Shame, is Spring. Why? Because Spring is campus tour season. There's nothing funnier than seeing a hungover coed attempting to sneak across campus back to her dorm, hiding behind trees, dodging people like they have the plague, and running straight into a group of forty parents, high school students, and little kids. I wish I could be that tour guide. "On your left we have McKeldin library, and on your right we have someone who had too many shots of tequila and made a bad decision." Maybe I'll sign up to be a tourguide. Then again, that involves a lot of walking around campus, and I drove to class today.

-Adam