This Saturday night, we’re bringing you a recap of what one anonymous male student calls his Big Gay Night Out at CU.
So, it’s my senior year. I haven’t had that much schoolwork lately and decide that tonight’s the night. I’m finally going to have my big gay night out on campus, aka: go to Suite.
I message the grext to see what my ladies are doing tonight. Happily, they’re all down to get blackout and sing karaoke with me.
Meanwhile, I put on my new clothes that are actually old clothes because I thrifted them from somewhere deep in Brooklyn. I want to look good so that I can hook-up with one of the five single gays on campus even though we’ve all already hooked up or we hate each other.
An hour or so later, I show up to the pregame with Svedka but no chaser because we’re all trying to lose weight for formal next week.
I end up drinking the whole Svedka by myself because none of the girls are ready on time. Plus, I have to help all of them figure out what to wear.
After the pregame, we decide to enter a frat party. The whole while, I’m pulled from friend to friend so I can reassure them with catchphrases like “yeah, all guys suck!” and “omg he’ll totally text back!” They each promise me that we’ll go to Suite in, like, an hour.
After like 3 hours, I force all of my friends and I to leave so that we can finally go to Suite. This is supposed to be MY night. I didn’t go through four years of being bullied and operating within a heteronormative world for this!
On our walk over, I start to relax and enjoy the night. I look hot, my friends look hot, AND I just got 37 emails from Senior Underground to tell me that I got one match on Senior Scramble.
But, as we approach the door, one of our friends gets a text from the guy she’s hooking up with. He’s at The Heights, she simply must go see him, and we HAVE to accompany her. “But we’re literally already here!” I exclaim. “Noooo, but Heights is on the wayyyyy,” they argue.
After dropping our friend off at The Heights, safely assured that she is indeed getting the D, we proceed to loop around Cannon’s, Mel’s, and 1020 so that we can also unite all of my other friends with their respective FWBs. One by one, I watch as they dash off to their men, inwardly hating all of them for not even offering to throw me a few dollars so that I can at least go to Tom’s. In the end, only me and the one friend we don’t even really like are left over. I decide it’s not even worth it for us to go to Suite, given that probably only the bears and “straight” white male professors would still be there.
We end our night with drunk pizza at Koronet’s, ugly-crying into the greasy slice that we agreed to split but mostly she eats.
As I return to my room, I reflect on the night, disappointed that I didn’t really get to have my big gay night out.
But just as I’m about to fall asleep, I get a notification from Grindr from that one bro at the frat party! Cackling to myself, I text the grext.
All in all, sometimes being gay at Columbia can be a drag. But at least when you have a group of girlfriends who are always as late and crazy as you, you can rest easy knowing that there is a place where you fit in on this campus.
**Disclaimer: This article is a personal piece and does not reflect the views of Her Campus Media.