Walk of Shame

by Gregory, O. L.

Chuckles came from around the room.

  "Knock back this shot because you're vibrating again." He handed me a shot that he'd been hiding in his other hand.

  I took it and knocked it back.

  A few men cheered.

  "And now sit and get comfy. There are more pillows behind the couch, if you need them." He reached around and straightened with a bottle of water. "Take this, you should hydrate, you only stopped once for a sip of water the whole time you were outside. Production doesn't want it on camera while you're talking to the guys. So drink it after one guy and before the next, and tuck it between the cushions while the men are up here. We brought you more flowers in," he said pointing to a small pile tucked behind the coffee table's centerpiece, "in case you want to pin a few more, little miss I-like-throwing-curve-balls-at-the-crew."

  I smiled. "Someone has to keep them on their toes."

  "And take notice, they're all wearing name tags for you now."

  I looked out to see that they all had, in fact, put them on. "Aw, it's the first sign of their devotion to me. Gotta love that."

  I gained a few more chuckles and started to feel a little more at ease in front of everyone. I also needed to keep in mind that this was the worst it would be. After tonight, the crowd of men would only grow smaller. I knew the moment we ventured out in public, with the cameras, we were bound to attract an audience. But I'd decided to worry about that later.

  I settled on the couch, took a sip of water, and tucked the bottle away.

  Troy did a formal introduction for the segment, for the sake of the cameras, and he stepped down and away.

  The guys all passed looks between one another as they looked around, trying to decide who would be first. The mood in the room had been light, but with the formal reminder that every moment was being filmed, the guys were thrown off-center again.

  And with them suddenly self-conscious, I fed off that and became nervous again, too.

  Trevor stood and came across the room, towards me. It was a relief that someone had the balls to make a move. He smiled as he came up the steps. "May I join you?"

  I made a mental note that Trevor was the type to take full advantage of the fact that he worked for the network, and therefore had some higher level of comfort with the situation than the others did. "Of course."

  "This is really weird," he whispered.

  I laughed. "I know. I can't decide if it's the whole shrouded platform, or the idea of everyone staring that's weirder."

  "And then you have all of us in various kinds of formal clothing..."

  "And then the crew all dressed in black t-shirts and pants."

  "Are you ready for all this?"

  I shook off the same chill I got every time I thought about what I might be getting myself into. "I sure hope so."

  "So, when you were here last time, I didn't ask. Where do you call home, like what address do you use?"

  "Well, I come from southeast Pennsylvania. I grew up about an hour outside of Philly, my parents still live there, and my little sister. My address will lead you to a post office box."

  "So how do you get mail?"

  "I have a forwarding service that weeds out all the junk mail and then sends out the rest to me once a week, I send them emails with whatever the campground's address is that I'm staying at, and they send it out to me."

  "Awesome."

  "So, you don't actually have your own RV?"

  "Ah, no. I have a tent, though."

  I laughed again. "You slept in your own bed last night and drove on down here today, didn't you."

  "Well, yeah. I drove my motorcycle over. I figured I can't show you my rig, but I can show you my hog. And then we can discuss how easy it would be to attach one of those motorcycle racks to the back of your rig."

  "That would be handy to have out on sites. Do some sightseeing on the motorcycle instead of always using my gas-gulping truck."

  "Is that what you do now?"

  "Well, I usually throw my bicycle in the bed and drive to the spot, then pedal around."

  "Got 'cha."

  "What about you? Why are you in LA?"

  "My Dad is an agent and my Mom works with costuming. I came back here after my enlistment ended. I felt like I needed to re-ground myself with family. Now I'm ready for the next step, I'm just not sure what that step should be. But then you showed up in my car and sparked my interest."

  Troy walked into Trevor's line of view and tapped his watch.

  "It's seems I gotta go. Good luck." He stood to take his leave.

  "Thanks."

  I touched my hand to my nose to conceal the smile I was wearing. This night was full of surprises. Plus I had calmed down a great deal while talking to Trevor.

  Drake broke away from the small group he'd been talking to. Mr. Too Smooth with the shiny head and turquoise dress shirt eased on up the stairs. "May I?" he asked.

  "Please."

  He moved a throw pillow and sat. "So, I read your blog."

  I smiled. "Oh, yeah?"

  "You're pretty funny once you get started on something."

  "Thank you. So you know what I do. What is it that you do?"

  "I'm a songwriter."

  "Do you sing as well?"

  He laughed. "When I have to. I'm okay at it, but not like you need to be to make money at it. So I stick to writing."

  "How did you end up RVing full time?"

  "Well, I was flying from one city to another, trying to get my foot in the door, and for the occasional meetings. And that meant hotel rooms. And that had expenses piling up. So, that had me thinking to relocate, but I had been getting nibbles in a couple different cities and I didn't know which place would be better for me to move to. But then I found, as the years moved on and as I got past the nibble stage more and more, they were content with small internet meetings. And that opened up some options for me. I got the fifth wheel and now park it in whatever area looks interesting, and move it when I have to go a physical meeting, camping as close to the city as I can."

  "Does your music change as your surroundings do?"

  "Oh, definitely. And it was the right decision for me. Otherwise, I'd have ended up living in a tiny apartment in a city and I'd be suffocating from it."

  "I hear that."

  "How did you end up RVing?"

  "I guess I just got tired at looking at travel brochures. I watched the Travel Channel growing up and didn't want my view of the world to be tied down to a box in the corner of the room. My writing actually got started from me picturing myself in all these other places and imagining what kind of life I might have, living there."

  "Very nice."

  "Thank you."

  Drake was getting looks from the other guys. "I think I better move on and let someone else have a turn."

  "Can't have the natives getting restless."

  Yamid must have found his courage, because he swooped up to the platform, cutting off one of the other guys.

  This guy just wasn't racking any points up with me tonight. I have a thing about rude people. I don't like them.

  He helped himself to a seat. "This is a very different kind of meeting than I'm used to," he said.

  I smiled. "For me, as well."

  "I am not used to the woman controlling the situation."

  Aha. "Well I make it a policy to not let anyone control me. If I don't agree with what's going on, I walk away."

  "You would not expect your husband to make decisions?"

  "Yes, but to make them with me, not for me."

  He made a face.

  I made one back.

  He was back to not saying anything.

  "What brought you to coming on the show?" I asked, because I was genuinely curious at this point.

  "My friends suggested that I apply."

  "Have you ever watched it?"

  "No. But I understand that you pick who will be the best husband for yourself, the best provider and caretaker."

  'Caretaker'? Are you freaking kidding m
e? I thought. "What kind of work do you do?"

  "My family owns a few hotels."

  "And you do what for them?"

  "I travel among them. I'm the main accountant. I double check the books and handle all the taxes."

  "How far spread out are the hotels?"

  "They're along the east coast. They're spread from North Carolina to New York."

  "So, you're tied to that region. You don't really get out into the middle of the country, do you?"

  "No, not really. But, as part of the owner's family, I do get to stay in a suite whenever I'm at a particular hotel for a few days auditing the books."

  "That sounds lovely." I stared down at the assortment of flowers on the table. They had four different colors laid out, red, pink, pale pink, and white.

  "And if you're just traveling back and forth between hotels, you probably stay at the same sites as you have before."

  "Of course, I am a preferred customer. I get the best sites."

  "You also probably own your own home, as well."

  "Oh, yes. I have a condominium on the waterfront. My family all own condos in the same community."

  "Keeping the family together."

  "Yes."

  "Are there any other traditions your family maintains here in the US?"

  "Everyone in my family wears the traditional garb. It is far more modest."

  I picked up a white carnation and a pin. "The lady's clothing is absolutely gorgeous. I've seen some with exquisite detailing."

  Finally he'd found something to smile about. "Are you skilled with a needle and thread? My sister is quite good at doing the embroidery work. I'm sure she'd be happy to teach you."

  "Not really. That's why I'm in awe of those who are."

  His face fell.

  "May I pin a flower on your lapel?"

  He smiled again. "Yes."

  He walked away, looking proud of his white flower.

  I pulled the water bottle out and shook my head. I quickly chugged the water because my Scottie McHottie was waiting next, and Troy wouldn't let him up until I was done and the camera could catch me without the water bottle. I shoved the bottle between the cushions and smiled my readiness.

  Troy signaled him on, and I began to realize that Troy was just as much their point man as he was mine.

  I looked at his nametag as he approached. "Liam, have a seat, sir."

  "Thank you." He sat down. "I'm afraid we forgot about the introductions outside."

  "I think I was too busy listening to the bagpipes and your accent to care."

  He laughed. "I'm glad you liked what you heard."

  "Are you from Scotland, originally?"

  "Yes. My father moved to Scotland when he was twenty, met my mother, and married her. My siblings and I were all born over there, but we all have US citizenship through our father. I came over here after earning my degree."

  "Why?"

  "I was studying geology, and my father's family is from Colorado. The university in

  Boulder has an excellent graduate geology program."

  "I bet they do. So is that what you do for a living, work with rocks?"

  "Mountains, actually. I work to compare and contrast mountains in different ranges, of different heights, at different latitudes and longitudes. I also work a bit with volcanoes."

  "Do you do that through university programs?"

  "Yes. I've worked with a couple of different universities over the years. I have my doctorate, and sometimes teach summer programs or run field studies."

  Oooh, Dr. Scottie McHottie. Sexy. "Do you ever think of doing that work back in the highlands?"

  "I have. I went back for a year to work through the University at St. Andrews. That's where I began my studies."

  "You don't stay on staff for very long?"

  "I go where the opportunities are, and I like the variety. Someday, I'd like to study the Alps and the Himalayas."

  "I could get onboard with setting up camp in other countries for awhile."

  "That's good to hear. Have you ever been out of the United States?"

  "Yes, I went to Spain in high school. Other than that I stuck my toe in Canada to see Niagara Falls, and I island hopped in the Caribbean on a cruise."

  "You travel all the time. You must have a list of places you'd like to visit."

  "Scotland is actually at the top. I've been infatuated with the country for years. And then, I'd like to cruise around the Mediterranean Sea. And, I'd like to take a cruise down to Antarctica, one that stops and lets you get off and walk around. I just want to be able to say that I've been there."

  "We could make a globe-trotting pair, you and I."

  "Sounds wonderful to me," I said, and meant it.

  Troy stepped in Liam's line of sight and touched his watch, time to go.

  Phillip was up next. He was lean and hot. And in our conversation, he told me he could cook.

  "Can I have that pink flower back?" I asked.

  He gave me a strange look. "Sure."

  I unpinned it, swapped it out for a red one, and pinned it on.

  He laughed loud enough to draw a few looks from the other guys. "Is this an upgrade, or a downgrade?" he asked.

  I just winked at him, "I look forward to cooking with you."

  James, Mitch, and Tyler all took their turns on the couch with me. I was halfway through with this portion of the night before I had to call a halt to the production.

  One of the other guys was just about to approach when I held up my hands to form a letter T, "Time out."

  Troy stepped away from the rest of the crew. "What do you need, Princess?"

  "Princess needs a potty break. The last time I went, the sun was still out." Thank God, the guys were indulging me with their laughter tonight. Not that I thought it really mattered, my bladder was past the point of embarrassment.

  At some point, I'd slipped off the shoes and curled my legs up onto the couch as I had turned my body to the side, to face the men I had been talking to. It took me a moment to fumble with the extra length of the dress and setting the shoes upright without reaching down and making a small scene of it. It was enough to make me consider running across the room barefoot, despite the cameras.

  Troy closed his eyes and resisted the urge to shake his head as the others looked on and wondered what the hell I was doing.

  "It's going to be a long season on this show if I can't keep you in your shoes," Troy said.

  That gave me the okay to just go ahead and reach down to lift the dress out of my way, so I could see the things to slip them back on. "Well then, it's going to be a long season," I said as I stood and dropped the bottom of the dress to let it flare out as I moved across my stage.

  I left the room, attended to my business, and returned a few moments later.

  "Do you need anything else before we start again?" Troy asked.

  "I'm starving." Nervousness had prevented me from eating much of anything all day. Now that I was relaxed, and the day had extended past its normal length, my stomach was talking to me.

  "Let's get a quick snack into you, then after all this is done we can get you a plate. Follow me."

  I went outside with him and spotted a third of the men out there with food and beer. "Are you kidding me? No wonder you guys are out here half the time!"

  "They didn't tell us about it, either. Some of the guys still don't know it's here because they haven't come out yet," the purple-shirted, smelly good guy said.

  I put a few bite-sized morsels on the plate and grabbed a can of soda.

  "You don't want a beer?" the guy with the nametag 'Darren' asked.

  "No, thanks. It's late. I'm opting for caffeine to keep me going."

  Troy tapped his watch and I ate my food and drank some soda. I ditched the plate and followed the walking watchman back inside. He held his arm out for me to take and steady myself up the stairs but then didn't move along with me.

  "What?" I asked.

  He held his other hand out. "The
soda. We can't have the brand name on camera and it doesn't have a cap like the bottle of water."

  I rolled my eyes and chugged some more before I handed it over. I walked up the stairs, ditched the shoes, hiked up the dress, and got comfy again.

  Hair, Makeup, and Wardrobe came up the steps to primp me again. Wardrobe arranged the fabric because it seemed that I had it bunching in places when I had sat. The makeup artist focused on revitalizing my lipstick. And the hair guy stuck two more pins in my head. I could only hope they'd be around at the end of the night to deconstruct their creation, because I'd never get it all undone in a way they'd see as proper.

  "Ready?" Troy asked when the primpers had finished.

  "Yep, I'm good."

  Ardent was up next. He'd taken the Hopi headdress off and I could see he was another one that had wavy black hair, and his chocolate brown eyes seemed to swim in wisdom.

  "What do you do for a living?" I asked, getting right down to it.

  "I'm an archaeologist."

  "You have my attention," I said with a surprised smile.

  "I don't do dinosaurs," he warned.

  "Even better."

  "I study ancient people, their way of life."

  "So you excavate sites of homes and towns?"

  "Exactly."

  "I bet a lot of people think that's not as cool as dinosaurs."

  He smiled. "I'm interested in what you think."

  "I think a person who claims to love learning about other cultures would be a liar if they didn't find unearthing the history of past versions of daily life interesting."

  He nodded. "What makes you so drawn to other cultures?"

  "The United States isn't very old. We don't have a culture that has been practiced and honed for a thousand years, before being bred into us. I'm a European mutt with a little Native American thrown in for flavor. I don't have a cultural base to call my own. I feel like I'm missing roots."

  "Is that why you travel and roam the country in a fifth wheel?"

  My eyes darted to his. The question had gotten my attention. "It may just be."

  I'd have gotten a flower for him, but there was no way I'd forget my opinion about the Hopi man who'd made me think a bit deeper about my life.

  Patrick was up next. A little shy, but cute. Way too conscience of the cameras, though. I couldn't tell if he was trying to stay away from them, or figure out how to get them on him more, without doing something idiotic to draw them in.