No Shame in Her Game
Noticed a couple sharing a quick kiss before parting ways. He went south and she west. As her path was going to cross mine I anticipated the attention; it’s a rare woman that doesn’t stop and fuss over Moe. But she did not, and as she passed I saw why. The lady had her own distractions. She was a mess of tangled hair and smudged mascara, and her heels didn’t quite match the oversized men’s pajama bottoms she had on. Ah, the old walk of shame. The thing is, though, that she wore the broadest and most beatific smile imaginable. Better yet, she had a long stride and had her head held high. She was the picture of happiness.
Good on ya, girl.
