5 Things No One Wants To Be Caught Doing
1. Stuffing your face alone in a restaurant on a Saturday night.
Last weekend, I hit Single Girl rock bottom when I found myself eating at a very #dark fast food chain by myself on a Saturday night. The whole time I was sitting there, I was thinking, “Life is so cruel that I bet I would run into someone I know right now. The odds are so slim, but it would happen to me.” Lo and behold, as I was leaving the “restaurant,” I ran into a whole GROUP of my friends.
“OMG, hey Ryan,” my friend greeted me, looking equal parts confused and horrified.”What are you doing here?”
I didn’t even bother covering up my shame. I immediately was like, “Yep. I’m here by myself on a Saturday night. It’s come to this!”
Out of pity, they invited me to go to a wine bar with them but at that point, I just needed to go home and put the covers over my head. The fact that someone saw me engaging in such shameful DL behavior was too much for me to recover from.
My friend once told me a similar story about eating alone. It was Friday night after a long day at work and all she wanted to do was feast on a giant burger by herself. She went to a nearby restaurant, got her burger and sat down at a table facing a window, which turned out to be a big mistake because her ex-boyfriend soon walked by as she was mid-bite. So you know what she did? SHE DOVE UNDERNEATH THE TABLE TO AVOID BEING SEEN. Because at the end of the day, it’s more embarrassing for your ex to see you devour a burger by yourself on a Friday night than have restaurant patrons judge you for leaping to the ground for no apparent reason.
2. Googling weird stuff.
Is it just me, or do you find it sort of invasive when someone comes over to your house and uses your computer? It’s not like I have Google searches on there like “How to kill someone” or “Naked five-year-old boys riding horses and laughing” but there are some things that I’d like to keep private. My computer is my safe space. It’s there for me when I need to indulge my every creepy whim like Googling pictures of Mary-Kate Olsen and Heath Ledger or figuring how to get rid of bacne during the summer. (YOU KNOW I’M ON THAT BREAKOUT TIP DURING THE NEW YORK CITY SUMMERS, Y’ALL!) Obviously there are more embarrassing Google searches than bacne and Mary-Kate but I can’t divulge them. That’s the point. Google and I have a confidential relationship. There’s no room for another person so please B.Y.O.C. the next time you come to my apartment.
3. Lurking your ex on Facebook.
When I lurk exes on Facebook, I like to imagine that I’m alone with my MacBook Pro in a desert somewhere. Real life doesn’t exist. The second I click on that profile and settle in to do some serious lurking, there’s nothing else around me. This, of course, isn’t actually true because I live with a roommate who sometimes will plop down on the couch next to me when I’m mid-lurk. She’ll see what I’m doing and look at me with disapproving eyes. “Really, Ryan? Really? It’s like that tonight?” Yes, honey. I’m afraid that it’s ALWAYS like that.
4. Doing the walk of shame.
Two summers ago, I found myself waking up in Greenpoint at a boy’s house during an insane heatwave. Even though he wasn’t a random — we were actually dating — I was hungover, hot, and possibly needing to throw up, so I decided to hightail it out of there and walk to the L train at like 8 a.m. When the subway came, I breathed a giant sight of relief and plopped down on a seat, ready to close my eyes and pretend I was invisible, when I heard someone call my name.
“Oh my god,” a familiar voice screamed. “RYAN, HEY!”
I woke up startled and confused. DEAR GOD, NO. IT’S 8 A.M. WHO IS THIS CREATURE WHO’S EXPECTING WORDS TO COME OUT OF MY MOUTH? MUST LIFE BE SO CRUEL?
Oh, wait, it was just one of my good friends, Caitlin.
“Oh hey, babe…”
“What are you doing on the train right now? This isn’t your hood!”
I begrudgingly explained to her why I was riding the Shame Train at such an early hour and she thankfully understood. I guess everyone has smelled like tequila and penis at 8 a.m. before, so it was NBD. That train ride to Manhattan felt as long as Titanic though. Like I was wondering when we were going to hit that iceberg and be put out of our misery because I just couldn’t hang. Why do I always run into people when I have my “DON’T SCREW WITH ME” face on? Is this the universe way’s of punishing me for engaging in homosexual acts and drinking too much? If so, it will never work. I don’t care if I have to run into five friends from high school and an ex when I’m doing my next walk of shame. I WILL NEVER STOP WAKING UP HUNGOVER IN CUTE BOY’S APARTMENTS!
Saving the most obvious for last. I’ve never been caught masturbating before. Have you? It seems pretty hard to get caught, no? Like can’t you just lock your door or do it in the shower? Unless you have a roommate and like to jack off in the middle of the day on the couch, I don’t see this as being much of a risk. Just learn your roommate’s schedule and spank accordingly.
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The best thing about being a young adult right now is that you, more than any previous generation, have the freedom and the resources to create your own religion. So, let’s get started.
The apartment you lived in your first year out of school, the walk-up with a view of the street.
I wanted to quit my job. I hated my boss.
His eyes widened, he became angry, and backed off of me. I told him he could leave now. Now. He said “With you being a good Christian girl, and me studying to be a priest, I think it’s important we not tell anyone what we did.”