Walk of Shame
Not all walks of shame lead back to where you started.
Jack is 25, freshly transplanted from the Midwest to New York City, and still navigating the city's anything-goes dating scene. One night takes a turn he didn't see coming — and the walk home the next morning turns out to be anything but ordinary. Sharp, funny, and darker than it looks, this is a story about the morning after, and what you find when you finally face it.
My name is Jack. I'm 25 years old, and I've been living in New York City for the last couple of years. I moved here from a small town in the Midwest, and I love living in the city. I love all the people, the food, and the fact that New York is open late. The town I grew up in? Everything was closed by 9 p.m. Nobody ate dinner later than 7:30, and that was considered late.
One thing about New York, though, that I'm still trying to get used to, is the dating scene. Back in my hometown, and even at the college I went to, dating was all done through connections—people you knew would set you up with someone they knew, and round and round it went. Half the reason I think I left was because I may have dated myself out of all the girls in the town I grew up in. I know that makes me sound like I sleep around, but it was a small town.
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