Walk of Shame "While heading down a long hallway at an airport, I noticed that people I passed were staring at me. I assumed it was because I was wearing a short, sexy skirt and felt flattered, so I strutted a little bit. When a really cute guy walked by and quickly turned around and tapped my shoulder, I gave him my most seductive smile. Then he said, 'Oh, girl, I'm as gay as they come. My skirt had been poking out of my control-top nylons, giving everyone I passed an unattractive view of my behind the entire time.
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I was chicken. Like many women, I worried that if I put myself out there and got a "no thanks" in return, I'd never recover from the humiliation. And while my path of least resistance didn't score me the hottest sex, I was happy at least that it kept me in possession of my ego. Just as I was about to abandon my George fantasy, I ran into him at a bar after the Senior Streak, a ridiculous, drunken tradition where every senior runs around campus, sans pants. And, for reasons I still don't totally understand, I went for it--walked right up to him, threw my arms around his neck and asked him to dance. Soon I was headed back to his place, wearing his jacket. Even though I'm happily married now, my dalliance with George remains among my favorite pre-aisle memories--because I'd pounced and it worked.
We all know the dating game has become impossibly complicated these days. Are the women for you on Hinge or Bumble? Should you pony up dinner or just a drink on the first date? How many days should you wait to call someone in the digital dating world?
Then five months ago, a colleague introduced me to Tinder, and I logged on. I was just curious to see how it worked and how men initiate conversations with other men. I was amazed that every second person I was swiping right on matched with me.