Last night, I had an epiphany. While it wasn’t the most pivotal moment of my life thus far by any degree (that happened today when I watched Ke$ha’s new video and heard the exclamation “Muenster is like edible lactose gold!” but I digress), it was something that had always been in the back of my mind. You see, last night being Saturday and of course being filled with all the expectations of a stereotypical college weekend, I went out… hard. Naturally, the chemicals in my body caused my philosophical side to come out, which means I talk and think a lot, usually in that order and usually about deep and meaningful subjects like hooking up.
“Guys,” I said to my suitemates, “Guys, really, listen. I love women!”
“We know,” they said laughing.
“No, really,” I protested, grabbing them by their shoulders and then throwing my own head in my hands, “They’re just… so beautiful!” (I feel it worthy of note to mention that when I am under the influence of anything, my voice gets about 4 octaves higher, which means all of this was said in a Minnie Mouse-like voice.)
Actually, this is an apt depiction of what I act like...
They, as always, laughed at my shenanigans, and we went on our merry way.
We arrived at our destination and stumbled onto the dance floor, shaking our things to Katy Perry’s “Firework.” We danced, we laughed, we bonded, all that good stuff, but we were a group of women at a frat party, so outsiders occasionally interrupted our fun times.
Greek Symposiums: Original Frat Parties
Here is where my epiphany took place. As I was deftly negotiating myself out of a potentially sticky (haha) situation, I realized something: I have no way to tell when to hit on a woman at a party. Parties here are so hetero-inclined that I wouldn’t know the first thing to do to see if a girl might be interested in dancing, let alone anything else.
So, what do you do, ladies of Sappho? Is it an awkward let’s-make-eye-contact-and-maybe-she’ll-take-the-hint-and-come-over kind of deal? Is it acceptable to be aggressive and risk offending someone? Or should we invent some kind of internationally accepted signal in order to communicate, “Yes, I’m single. Yes, I like women. Yes, I would love to share a dance with you,” or even “Yes, I’m single. Yes, I like women, but hell no, I’m not touching that!” because then, at least, I could accept my sheer lack of game without question.
"Yes!"
"Ah, hell no!"
6 comments:
This is yet another problem solved by swing dancing. Swing is a fun, not-too-sexual kind of dance you can do with anyone. If I want to hit on a girl, I might do some turns or show her a few steps, which is a casual, non-threatening thing I do with boys and girls whether or not I'm hitting on them. Once you're dancing, if you want to escalate the sexual tension, you can try doing dips, making longer eye contact, or running your hand along her arm. See if she responds.
If not, you both had fun swing dancing (so much classier than grinding) so no harm, no foul.
good luck swing dancing to hiphop at a frat house party.
Agree on swing dancing being more classy. I tried swing dancing at a frat house party. Sadly, neither me or person I was trying to dance with could remember enough to lead properly, and it was so crowded it was impossible to move.
My friends and I call anyone we think might be gay "family." Maybe that should be a new code word..."hey, are you family?" It could start a new way of identification.
I feel like family is too obviously code for something. Like what if you ask someone if they're family and they're just like ummm, what? There's no way to explain it other than it being a code for something
Well, you'd have your answer.
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