So you've just completed your orientation here at the great state University of Wisconsin. You're sifting and winnowing in your dorm room. You may ask yourself, \Self, I wonder how much of what I was told about binge drinking and State Street prostitution by those wily upperclassmen was legit?""
Though I have nothing but respect for all my Badger Buddies and believe they're all doing an excellent job, I feel compelled to share some information that is suspiciously absent from SOAR. I must offer my sincere apologies to the LGBT contingency; as a heterosexual male, I don't feel qualified to advise boys-seeking-boys in their extracurriculars.
With that aside, it is my honor and privilege to inform you of Wisconsin's most wondrous occurrence: You will, dozens of times each day, fall in love while walking to class. Her name, courtesy of her attractive Norwegian foremothers who washed up on Milwaukee's shores, is something like Kristen or Heidi or Sv??rg??n, but to you that's of little consequence. She's the Goddess in the Green Hoodie, the Princess of the Pyle Center.
You're also not sure whether it's magic or a manufactured tangerine tan that's making her glow like that. You only know that seeing her before your 8 a.m. anthropology power lecture is the only thing that makes it bearable.
If you don't believe me, spend a morning people-watching near the Red Gym by the Union. Last year I lived on Langdon, where it's more Greek than Parthenon Gyros. Say what you will about sorority girls, but the vast majority of them know how to clean up, which made my daily trek to Grainger High uncomfortable.
If I stumbled to class in sweatpants and a ratty UNC cap, complete with paint speckles, there was significant Cheeto-related evidence indicating I failed to shower. When Kappa Kappa Sarah strutted down the street, sporting an outfit equaling my yearly expenditure on textbooks, she was worried I'd ask her for a quarter. My roommates and I could only take solace in the fact that fashion trends are cyclical; someday, The Northface will make flannel cool and my buddy Sean, perpetually dressed like a duck hunter on acid, will be ahead of the curve.
Girls here often tell me, right to my face, that there is an abundance of attractive women and a shortage of good-looking guys. However, it takes patience to build a sustainable relationship. Dating on this campus often mirrors actions of a game of beer pong, UW's most popular sport.
Both endeavors require a steady hand and strategic shot selection; loss of faith and sobriety will cause you to miss most of your opportunities. Even worse, if you're not prudent, each will eventually lead you to awaken one Saturday morning on a stranger's couch, smelling like cabbage. But with practice, you will come to master both, and the suds of victory will spill into the streets as your subjects hail you and your exalted queen.
In all seriousness, remember what you learned in SOAR. While autumn on the Monona Terrace will set the mood for romance, we've all got to look out for one another. One last word of caution: you see that girl over there, standing next to the guy with the facial tattoos and biceps bigger than quarter barrels of Spotted Cow? She's that gentleman's girlfriend, and you shouldn't hit on her. Chances are he killed several men about your size during his stint in prison.
This advice holds true, unless that the young lady can make excellent banana bread-in that case, take your chances and swoop in for the kill, Romeo; as the saying goes, all's fair in love and baked goods.
detierney@wisc.edu.
