On (not) meeting boys in college

All the single ladies

lf17-EllieHanson

Fact — nothing makes a girl feel more single than when her mom calls and asks how her “boy situation” is going.

When I got this call over fall break I didn’t have the heart to tell my mom the closest I’ve come to romance this semester was probably when one of my guy friends licked my face at his birthday party a few weekends ago, in what — I think — was a convoluted attempt at showing his affection. I did, however, let it slip that I borderline hyperventilate at the mention of “formal,” “date function” or any other event that requires a male counterpart, because guy friends are in low supply and romance is out of the question at this point. To which my well-meaning mother suggested that I go to more parties in order to meet more boys and make more friends. But what she doesn’t realize is that I go to parties all the time and haven’t met anyone. This begs the question — how does a girl even meet boys in college?

You’d think that classes would be the obvious answer, yet I can’t seem to meet anyone — even friends — in classes. On the first day of my English class, in an attempt to “put myself out there” and be social, I went up to a girl I vaguely knew who was also sitting by herself and asked if I could sit with her. I was brutally shot down by an “I’m saving these seats, actually,” and had to then awkwardly nod, pick up my backpack and do the walk of shame to the back of Maury 209, where I have been sitting by myself ever since. At this point in the semester, it seems like everyone has their established seats and friends in each class, so I’m quickly giving up on my dream of a serendipitous love affair that begins when a handsome stranger casually asks to borrow a pencil.

Perhaps the Corner’s bar scene would be the next course of action, but meeting boys there seems to always follow a similar pattern of dancing for approximately two minutes, him asking, “So, do you wanna go home with me now?” and me having to politely decline before fleeing into the crowd in a desperate attempt to find my friends. This happened the other night, but the boy — shocked by my declination and buoyed by an unrealistic gauge of his own sexual prowess — grabbed my arm and asked me, “Really? Are you sure?” Retrospectively, I would really love to have this dude’s self-esteem. Yeah, buddy, I’m sure. I’m looking for more than just a potential STD, thanks.

The library seems like a more wholesome environment where boys would want to spend more than one night with me, maybe ask me to coffee or something — but meeting people at the library is impossible. The other day I was studying in the Journals and Newspapers Room and thought that a cute guy was waving at me — a thrilling experience — until I realized that he was actually waving at my friend Asha who was standing behind me. Anyways, you’re not even allowed to whisper in the library unless you’re on Clem 4 or Clem 2 — we can speak above a whisper on Clem 2, right? If you see a handsome stranger, your only available mode of communication is sexy eye contact which is really just creepy eye contact. So it’s probably best to just keep your eyes down and on the reading you still haven’t done.

This brings us back to the parties my mom was suggesting I attend more of. And this is honestly a good way to go. At pregames you can meet people without having to scream over any blaring music, and there are mutual friends there to mitigate the potential awkwardness of a first conversation. And yet, I haven’t really met anyone at any of the pregames I’ve been to this year. Maybe that’s my own fault? I’m somewhat shy, and while I don’t think of myself as a girl with many talents, I do have a knack for consistently and viciously embarrassing myself.

A couple of weeks ago I went to a networking event with companies like Microsoft and Amazon, then came home to realize that the back of my skirt had been unzipped the whole time and that the recruiters and other students had all had the privilege of seeing my underwear. And to add insult to injury, it wasn’t even a cute pair. So, if we check the scoreboard, not only does no one want to date me, but now no one wants hire me either. Life is awesome.

So, Mom, maybe I'm bad at meeting boys, or maybe rumors of my ugly underwear have spread and boys are avoiding me, but regardless — I’m doing just fine! Maybe someday I’ll be one of those cool girls who hangs out with big groups of boys and knows how to shotgun a beer or one of those girls who can actually manage to nail down a boyfriend. Until then, though, I’ve got a bunch of awesome girlfriends, a few guy friends and one face-licker friend. And that’s enough for me.

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