Free Walk of Shame by O. L. Gregory Page A

looked back to me. "If you're ready,
Emmaline. We'll proceed to the next portion of the evening."
    I caught that he was repeating
himself so the film editors could cut out my shoe commentary and the transition
between settings would be seamless. I nodded to him. "I'm ready,
Troy."
    He led me down the stairs and off
through a doorway in the back of the room. "We'll give them a few moments
to get the men arranged. Let's step over here and do a short interview."
He led me to a small room that was already set up with a couple cameramen in
the right side corners of the room to catch angles, toward the opposite
diagonal corners, of both Troy and I when we sat down in facing chairs.
    A makeup artist followed us
inside to do some touchups. It had been a long night already and I was
surprised all the layers of my makeup weren't melting right off my face by now.
    "So," Troy asked, once
we were situated. "Who's made an impression on you so far?"
    "A lot of them have. I'm
finding that I'm picking certain things from certain ones that I like best. I
keep thinking 'I like this one's voice, this one's style, this one's cologne,
this one's job, and this one's attitude about life'. Now if I could just
conglomerate all those different attributes into one man, we could call it a
day right here and now."
    "What were you thinking when
you hit the third limo and the men started coming out in those outfits?"
    "I loved it. The third and
fourth limos both impressed me, if for no other reason than they put extra
thought into how to help me understand where they were coming from in
life."
    "If someone asked you to
dress for your culture, what would you wear?"
    I laughed. "Honestly, I'd be
wearing a t-shirt and jeans. You know, I was having a very interesting
conversation with..." and I drew a blank.
    Troy gave a discreet head-nod towards
the wall behind the cameramen.
    I looked up and there were
pictures on the wall of each man wearing tonight's outfit and his name on a
card in the corner of each picture. I smiled. "With Ardent. I call myself
a European mutt, with eight different nationalities. I don't have a specific
culture that I grew up in, other than being an American. And living the life
that I do, I can put on an evening dress and say that's just how we do it here,
but I come from the jeans and t-shirt wearing part of the nation. Maybe that's
why being grounded in a culture is appealing to me, it's something I've never
really had."
    "What do you believe is the
advantage of that?"
    "Because it connects you to
those who came before, and gives you a sense of familial history. Here, we
almost pride ourselves on doing weddings and holidays in our own individual ways.
But I think it would be nice to have some traditions that connect us through
the generations. To know it had been happening for decades before you, and know
that it will continue to happen for decades after you."
    Troy smiled and gave the would-be
audience enough of a pause to ponder what I'd said. "Who impressed you the
most, do you think?"
    I rolled my lips together between
my teeth, trying to think. "I don't think I can answer that. Too many
stood out, and all for different reasons. I don't think I can pick just
one."
    "Okay, fair enough. Could
you tell me who you think is the front runner, at this point?"
    I smiled and rolled my eyes.
"That's the same question, just using different words. But fewer men did
pass through my mind this time."
    "And what was the deal with
the flowers?"
    "There were too many to keep
track of. Names, attributes, personalities, and jobs! I had to categorize the
ones that left me with the more remarkable impressions, so I didn't
accidentally get rid of someone I really liked but got them confused with
another man."
    "What's your biggest fear
with this whole situation?"
    I sighed. "My biggest fear
is that I am going to make a mistake and send Mr. Right home before I've had a
chance to find out how right he is for me. It's hard to make a determination
with so