Garage Sale Sally

I want you to think back (in that pretty little head of yours) to a time you’d rather forget. A time where a decision the night prior seemed worth it at the time, when you didn’t know what was yet to come when you opened your eyes in someone elses bed. A time that – from there on in – taught you to not ever go home with a boy again, for fear of complete and utter embarassment. A time that epitomizes the Walk of Shame. Now as you sit there cringing of the unknown that was, I will promise you that you are not alone and there is definitely another blonde, bronzed, twentysomething out there whose experience is worse than yours.

Meet my friend, who – for the sake of this tale – will be referred to as Garage Sale Sally. Oh yes, that happened. A night on the town led her to the palace of love, some guys kingdom. And no wonder it was such a nice place, the one-hit wonder still lived at home with his parents. In their basement nonetheless. So when she woke up in the morning, she was relieved to find out her night time boy toy just so happened to have a walk out basement. Check. It couldn’t be easier, so she thought. She confidently slipped out the door downstairs, and walked along the side of the house to the front. As Garage Sale Sally walked down the side of the house she heard quite the chatter for a Saturday morning in the suburbs. As she made her way to the front of the house, her jaw dropped (yet again). It just so happened that there was a garage sale going on at the house she was trying to sneak out of. And let me tell you, wearing a side-boob showing dress that should in actuality be classified as a shirt, just doesn’t blend in. Needless to say I’m sure there were a few middle agers wishing Garage Sale Sally was an item up for grabs.


So there you have it. Yes walking downtown in the early a.m. in a pair of heels and oversized sweats sure as hell is embarrassing, but as we’ve learned here today, it could be worse.

What is the worst walk of shame experience you’ve had? We complain about it time and time again, and I used to always keep a pair of runners and lulu lemons at an on-again-off-again ex’s place as a ‘just in case’ , but is it that bad? And do we have it worse or better than guys?

Nothing like an impromptu morning after breakfast after a night at your place, and running into people you saw at the club the evening prior. “Hey buddy – nice shirt…Isn’t that the same one you were wearing last night?” a loud-mouth so obviously states in front of an unassuming group of people.

– Jenny Jen

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