You’re holding a red Solo cup, squeezing your way through dozens of people crammed into a space made comfortable for four. You step backwards, to move out of the way of three guys toting a keg to replace the one on the porch — the one that partygoers have sucked dry. You accidentally step on the Sperry boat shoes of the guy behind you, who reacts with a dramatic swing of his arms. Out flies his red jungle juice, out of his also red Solo cup, and onto your bright white, brand new silk blouse. ‘Why in holy Hell did I wear this shirt tonight?’ you think to yourself.
“Well, looks like now you’ll have to take it off!” Boat shoes guy says, smirking while pathetically attempting to wink at you. You almost regurgitate the nearly flat, grade D beer in your cup.
This guy is not who I dreamed of meeting tonight. Neither are any of these guys, sloppy and drunk and more concerned with the beer pong sign up list posted on the wall in the corner than whether or not I’ll ever be able to remove this Hawaiian spiked punch stain out of my shirt. When exactly did I grow out of this scene? I see some girls, my age or younger, humoring these guys with short dresses and beer drinking contests, trying to keep up with the guys as if that skill is going to impress them. Maybe it does. Either way, these girls are drinking enough to the point where, in two hours, no one will remember anything except where the bedroom is and how to take each other’s clothes off.
And the vicious cycle continues each weekend. A couple girls will find themselves “lucky” enough to land a guy who they can continue this pattern with for weeks, even months. Are they dating? Nobody knows; they still don’t offer any signs of affection on campus, and forget about engaging in sober activities together. Until one day, after two months of texting each other “I miss you” or “come over” sporadically during the weekends, they both find themselves in need of studying time at the library. Together.
Will they sit together? Hold hands? Is this their first date? The fact that this is a milestone event in the relationship is sad on several different levels.
One: They’re considering a trip to the library a date. Red flag.
Two: How many months have these two been hanging out together? And this is the first sober adventure together in the outside world? Wave another big red flag.
Three: He immediately ditches her as soon as the two enter the library’s front doors. He claims that he can’t focus with her there. Toss the third and final flag, along with that skinny vanilla latte, directly in his face…and hopefully it’s a hot one.
I witnessed these types of sorry stories via my friends and classmates, and I lived through some of them as well. During my four years in college, I lost the understanding of what a date, or dating, actually entailed and began believing that the concept just no longer existed. Chivalry was more than dead; it was trampled and then dragged by its feet, tied to the end of a pickup truck.
I graduated college while still “seeing” a guy, one who had occupied most of my time during our final semester. I wondered if we would continue our situation through the next chapters of our lives. How could we? We had no substantial relationship at all. Although unsure of why my feelings were so strong, I was sad to realize it was ending between us, and couldn’t figure out how to move on. I went back home to Massachusetts and began waitressing while I searched for a job to jumpstart my writing career. And guess what happened.
A tall, smart and attractive guy asked me out on a date that did not involve the library. After giving him my worthiest pizza recommendations, he flattered me with sweet, not slimy, compliments and warned me that by the end of our encounter, he will have asked me for my number. First, I rolled my eyes simply out of habit — but he responded, “I’m giving you a heads-up because I want to give you time to come up with an excuse, and let me down easy if you’re not interested.” I couldn’t help but smile at this self-deprecating, yet still confident approach he took at attempting to win my digits.
In turn, I told him he’d just have to wait until the end to see what happens. After hiding my number under the fold of his receipt, I handed the check presenter to him and said nothing more. I figured if he really wanted to call me, he would check every inch of that paper. If he never found the number, then it wasn’t meant to happen.
Well, he found my number, and we had our date, as well as a couple more to follow. He was always a gentleman to me, opening doors and introducing me to new restaurants and funky drinks to taste test. Although we got along great, at the time, I wasn’t ready to devote myself to a serious relationship; I was still trying to figure out my own career path. He, on the other hand, seemed ready to settle down as soon as possible, and if it were with me, then so be it. We parted ways, and I still think pleasantly of my first taste of Chimay.
You might not believe this, but…more dates with different guys followed.
Another recent college grad, working as a sales associate at a wholesale food industry asked me out on a date. Although a little bored by his story, I decided to give him a chance. On our date, no wall-shaking bass stood in my way of hearing about his trip abroad to Australia, no red Solo cups in either of our grasps, no beer pong in the corner of the room. We enjoyed a good meal and sampled different beers at a fun, local brewery, and then said our good-byes.
My cute sales rep was confident and clear about his feelings for me and had the guts to ask me out on a date, ready to accept rejection if I decided to say no. That fact alone was the reason I said yes. Here was a young guy, excited to take me out and treat me with respect, opening doors for me, paying for dinner, and introducing me to all of his friends that we met at a nearby pub afterwards. I had successfully taken a complete 180-degree turn from my college days, where I was lucky if the guy who took an interest in me would have lunch with me on campus at a dining hall (which our dining plan paid for…aka, thanks Mom and Dad).
To be honest, no sparks shot through the sky after this date, either. We did not sacrifice either of our feelings to determine that we were not right for each other; we didn’t have to. We did not cross any boundaries through our brief relationship and could easily move along without any hard feelings toward each other.
Now this story is not intended to sound self-absorbent or narcissistic by any means. I do not have men lined up outside my front door, waiting to take me out on dates and fighting over who’s next to enjoy a night with yours truly. But, by the end of college, I had become rather discouraged by men in general for the way I had seen them treat young women, and did not have much hope for the guys I’d meet in the following years. I had lost some of my self respect and wanted to gain it back before it was lost forever. Luckily, with some soul searching and real life experience, I’ve realized that college is only a mere four years in my hopefully long, long life.
The guys that you’ll meet in your career-driven lives are waiting to encounter girls who stand tall and respect themselves from head to toe, and who demand for the guy to treat them like royalty. We have all heard countless times, a guy loves a good chase, but the point is, don’t you want to be a woman worth catching in the end? And you are! You simply have to know it yourself, and when you realize it, he’ll soon figure it out too. Then watch him speed up those legs clad in business slacks to catch you and grab you with both arms.