By: Anonymous
I really don't understand how I'm supposed to find the love of my life in college. I'm sorry, but Chad from "Sigma Ligma Balls" is not going to be the man that I marry. And if he is, god help us all. What am I supposed to do? host my husband's annual alumni beer pong tournament at our house? Realistically, men ages 18-22 are probably my worst nightmare. That's a lie, my worst nightmare is having my future boyfriend send a picture of me in his boy's chat and then tell him “As long as you're happy bro”. Could you imagine?! I think at that point I'd just need to bury myself in my bedroom and never resurface.
Dating Apps
Logistically speaking, the guys in college who are my type are either taken or only want to sleep with me. Then there are the guys who do want a relationship, but they don't even have a good enough personality for me to disregard everything else about them that I don't like. The boys, not even men, that I see the girls around me go for are truly the human embodiment of a wet mop. If he had a good personality and/or was funny, I'd get it. I mean c’mon, the girls in love with Joe Rogan know what's up. But sometimes these boys have a personality flatter than a dead man's vital monitor.
I've tried dating apps, but I feel like the quality of men deteriorates every time I open them. Girls put so much effort into the pics they chose and a guy dares to post a picture with a fish?! And I can almost guarantee that the guys who post those fishing pictures are the guys whose mothers always told them that they were the most handsome boys in the whole world. Who's going to tell those women that they're liars?
Sometimes you get lucky and you find a guy that wants to actually date. He checks all the boxes and you're excited, but then comes the actual dating.
What's going on?
College students are masters of the ambiguous hangout. In college, "Let's study together" is code for "I'm kind of into you, but I don't want to admit it yet" or “I'd like to spend time with you in close proximity while pretending to be productive." You meet at the library with your textbooks in hand, but you end up discussing everything from the meaning of life to your favorite Netflix shows. Is it a date, a study session, or an impromptu therapy session? The lines are as blurry as your vision when you're drunk. When you suggest a "study date" to someone in college, you might as well be asking for their hand in marriage. You create a routine of going to the library together, and every time you go the conversations get deeper and the actual studying disappears. Because you've gotten so comfortable, you decide to start studying at someone's place. But beware, cause apartment study dates often involve more Netflix than actual studying unless it's anatomy or chemistry.
You start going out, without a label of course, and basically spend all of your free time together. Dates, clubs, errands, and everything else college couples do (including hooking up). You reach a point where you think it'd be a good idea to ask him every man's least favorite question; “What are we?” Was it a necessary question to ask? Yes. Do you regret it? Also yes. He asks why you need to put a label on a good thing, and says he thinks things are perfect the way they are. But is that because he has actual commitment issues, or because he doesn't wanna tell the girls he meets that he has a girlfriend?
Then you have the unavoidable ex encounter. Even though there are around 60,000 kids at this school, running into your ex is about as avoidable as an STD in a frat house. You're on a cute date with the (unlabeled) guy you're seeing, and there he is, the situationship that you (a good little Jewish girl) would have baptized her kids for. He comes up to your table and tries to chat you up, very obviously because you're with someone new, and it's a nightmare. Your new situationship tells your old one “My girlfriend and I are on a date, I’d appreciate it if you left us alone.” You're smug because an unlabeled guy just called you his girlfriend, so when your old situationship leaves you ask him about it. “I just called you that so he’d leave us alone, don't go getting any ideas.” And there they go, your last shreds of hope and dignity skipping hand in hand out of the bar you're at.