There are Walks of Shame, and then there was this Bitch

I want to clear one thing up:  Usage of the word "Bitch" does not mean I think all women are bitches, in a technical sense.  In the parlance of our times, bitch is a chick, it is a dude, it is a dog, it could be your grandma if you live in a socioeconomic area where your grandma is only 38 years old and is cool like that.  The connotations of the word bitch have become much like that of "Gay", in that it often is used in a context that is distantly related-at best-to what the word's context would have been decades ago.  So if you want to get all fucking Gloria Steinem and accuse me of being a chauvinist or something, don't blame me.  If anyone, it was Snoop Dog's fault.  And Dave Chapelle.  Like all cool things that black people do, Whitey has stolen and adopted it as their own.  I doubt cool black people even say bitch anymore.  They probably have some way hipper, edgier word for women now, like Vampire, or maybe Doe, Mare, Jenny, whatever.  I'm pretty sure that if white dudes from central Ohio have caught on, then black guys in Oakland have moved well past it.  Enough of this administrative bullshit, the real reason for my communique is below:

I wish errrrone could have seen the Walk of Shame that my family witnessed early in the morning of 1/1/12.  We were returning home from breakfast on New Year's Day at Nookie's on Wells Street in Old Town.  I'm sure the hungover employees who had to work at 6:30 a.m. on New Year's Day were absofuckinglutely thrilled to see my wife and me, with a particularly energetic 9 month old baby.  Probably exactly what you are hoping for while trying to choke back puke.  We had a lovely breakfast while the baby threw shit everywhere.  Yeah, real funny baby.  Everything you threw ended up on a filthy, ancient carpet, and ultimately back in your mouth without any sanitizing whatsoever.  So joke is on you, baby.  We leave breakfast and are driving south on Wells Street, approaching the intersection with North Avenue.  At first my brain did not believe what the eyes were telling it.  It appeared that a young woman was walking east on North Avenue across Wells street, barely dressed.  As we approached North we saw what was really happening: A barely dressed young woman was walking east on North.  Maybe not a huge deal, but a few details must be considered.  First off, it was well south of 9am.  Secondly, it was about 38 degrees.  Third point of consideration is that it was very windy.  Lastly, it was raining.  So we had a woman in her 20's wearing a very revealing mini dress walking home with no coat, hat or gloves, in the rain on a day when the wind chill was likely in the teens.  Happy New Year indeed madam!  We can presume from the clues provided that she was not headed to church.  I don't want want to gang up on this poor lass too harshly (which is why I'm writing this of course, I want to be fair), but she was what we here in the industry (the judging people industry, that is) would refer to as "a fire hydrant".  She was not very tall, but she was quite stout.  Since the mini dress left little to the imagination, I can accurately inform the readers that there was no clear demarcation of where her back ended and her ass began.  She walked briskly and with purpose, and although there were numerous cabs in the vicinity, she hailed not one.  So we can also speculate that she was without funds to procure a ride home.  So now we have a situation where she is walking with barely any clothes, in hypothermic conditions, and has no funds to extricate herself from the situation with any dignity in tact.  This my friends is a walk of shame.  I guess the Christian thing to do would have been to pull over and offer a ride.  However, I am atheist and atheists are mean and only do mean shit to people.  Disbelief in God and kindness are mutually exclusive--just ask a reasonable person like Pat Robertson.  Besides, the only spot left in the car was next to the baby, and our heroine likely smelled of cigarettes and remorse, neither of which I want the baby to inhale.  Also she would have been on Scout's usual spot, and out of respect for him I didn't want a potentially leaking person to occupy his real estate.  Unfortunately due to conditions and timing issues, I could not procure a cell phone photo.  You'll have to trust me that there was nothing graceful about this entire scene.  Being booted half-naked out of a dude's apartment into an unforgiving Chicago January Sunday morning with sticky thighs is no way to begin 2012.  You are really going to have to tweak those resolutions after firing out of the blocks this slowly.  The fact that you are not offered a ride home is one thing.  Not everyone has earned that.  But to be kicked out without so much as an old fleece or stained sweatshirt is another.  It is the ultimate referendum on your value as a potential mate that you were not--at minimum--given $20 to catch a cab back to your lair.  That stings.  She may have actually been physically escorted out the door; no stretch given the circumstances.  And kudos to my wife for having the wherewithal to tell me to turn onto North for a better look.  I was about to proceed through the intersection with only a brief glimpse.  But due to my wife's cool head under pressure, we took an unnecessary turn onto North avenue to better view this very rare Class 1AA Walk of Shame.  We can only hope for this poor lass's sake that the romp of 5 hours previous was conducted under the tutelage of latex.  You don't want to compound your late start to the New Year with a anxious trip to the free clinic 5 days later. 



I am so glad I didn't have a daughter.  Oh wait, fuck.