Every Bros Favorite Time of Year

This is every bros favorite time of year.  The reason is exceedingly simple, and undeniably shallow.  You see, as the weather turns warm, and the days grow long, another yearly tradition occurs too: the spring dresses come out.  You all know what I'm talking about, and just about every girl owns at least a couple.  They are the tiny, tight fitting contraptions that reveal almost everything, and yet hide just enough to stay somewhat appropriate.  They are unbelievably sexy, and yet somehow remain innocent.  They allow girls to capture the casualness of just another day, and yet they mark the turning of the seasons, and what it means for everyone's love life.  The spring dress symbolizes promiscuity.  It represents the coming of endless relaxation and yet intense passion.  It teases every bro by revealing a small piece of the prize.  It makes us comes back for more.  It manipulates us into devising pick-up lines and creating romantic dates for the perfect girl in the perfect spring dress hoping for the perfect night.  It controls us, taunts us, drives us crazy.  Yet it brings something else as well: excitement.  It signals the beginning of the chase.  The period when gorgeous babes look for someone to lie under the stars with on warm summer nights, and go on crazy and unorganized adventures with; the type of adventures that happen only when you are young and unattached and feel untouchable.  It is for these reasons that we love the change from winter to spring and eventually summer.  What we are all presented is the fleeting opportunity to live for ourselves, completely unfettered from any real responsibility.  And it all begins with the sighting of the first too tight, slightly slutty, spring dress.

Trouble in Paradise

I just walked past the couple that lives across the hall from me.  Yes, thats right, I said couple.  Earlier this semester the guy that had been living there moved out, and in moved the other dude's girl.  Its been a couple of months now since the switch, and at first the situation seemed to be paradise.  Both are pretty big on getting f***** up, and from taking prescription drugs to help their "focus" to experimenting with other illegal substances, they at least have one obvious thing in common.  However, as the living arrangements went from fresh to expected, and everyone lost the initial shock of seeing the babe enter her new room, paradise began to experience stormy weather.  It all started a couple weeks ago when around midday their shouting carried clearly through their door and into our room.  The fight was ugly: thinly veiled threats were hurled and accusations were sent back and forth.  As the fight continued for several minutes I mused that there was finally trouble in paradise.  As time would show, the fight was not an isolated incident.  Every couple days, arguments can be heard spewing from the room as if something insidious was growing there.  In fact, I have come to view the room as infected, contaminated beyond a cure.

And yet as I walked by the two this evening, they seemed in the highest of spirits.  Both happily said hello to me, and they were walking together with a flirty playfulness.  They were headed most likely to dinner where they will inevitably share romantic lines and appear to to be the peak of happiness.  But alone, they are different.  Their behavior is far from romantic and cute; it borders on ugliness.  Of course I am aware that at times all couples argue.  I would even go as far to contend that once in a while a fight can help a relationship: it can start things out fresh, and allow each individual to realize and work on their flaws.  In this case though I seriously doubt that these fights are beneficial.  If anything they are frightening. An outside observer would conclude that the clashes were between two people not very fond of one another, not a couple in "love" as they claim to be.

I guess what baffles me, is why either of them would ever want to move in together.  Living together is hard enough without having to share the tiny and cramped spaces of a college dorm room.  Now don't get me wrong, having a girl stay over can be a whole hell of a lot of fun.  The dude had a single, she could've stayed over whenever they wanted...for days in a row even.  But that doesn't mean that they had to give up their individuality.  At the college age, who wants to spend every single moment with their girlfriend?  What about chilling with the bros...or even just having some time to yourself?  There must be times when both much desperately want space.  The more I think about it, the more I begin to realize what the room really signifies for me: a trap.  By moving in together, they have trapped themselves, stifling their individuality and preventing their relationship from flourishing.  I'm not saying that you can't be with someone, or have a committed relationship, but please remain yourself.  We have the rest of our lives to make decisions with a spouse, and have to deal with the daily worries of living together.  For now, be yourself...

Premature Adulthood

Earlier this week a girl in my calculus class returned from her honeymoon.  She returned, contrary to my misconceptions about marriage, the same girl that she left as.  I have long felt that saying the words "I do" has an immediate and noticeable impact on someone, but as she sat in class today, she was still the same nameless girl that always sat two rows over and four seats up from me.  She was, except for the gaudy ring perched on her finger, unchanged.  The only senior in my class, (calc isn't something one generally takes in their last semester of college) she inevitably sits in her seat acutely aware of her status as class "elder."

We did some group work today, something done as a way to break up the long monotony of taking derivatives and sketching graphs, and for the first time all semester she landed in my group at the back of the room.  Too distracted to actually focus on work, I instead tried to catch glimpses of her ring, which she seemed to hide from us, pressing her hand against her shirt or hiding it underneath the desk.  I had never had a classmate who was married before, and I was suddenly aware that marriage had made her completely and utterly different from me or any other kid in the room.

 I finally got up the nerve to ask where she went on her honeymoon, and she responded that they had gone to Disneyland.  She proceeded to tell me that they went to all four parks, and began to list the different stops during their week of ignorant bliss.  I couldn't help but thinking to myself that Disneyland was far from the romantic getaway that I would want to spend the first precious days with my new bride.  Disneyland was a for the married couple with a family of three, looking for endless fun and warm weather all at a cheap price.  It was a place where families went for a brief respite from the constant struggles of life.  It was where I imagined I might be ten years after my marriage, not on the first night.  It was then as I looked at her giving me all the details that I realized she was still just a kid.  She was taking calculus and still worrying about final exams and which party she wanted to go to on friday night.  She was still in college probably exhausted from spending countless hours in the library, and yet exhilarated by the simple pleasures of learning, and dreaming of a future.  Its college...every one of is just a kid...

Except her future was decided.  At graduation there would be no opportunity to bask in the glow of the accomplishment, and start her first job with the carefree attitude that she could do whatever she wanted.  No, she had responsibility.  She had a husband, and had to be a wife.

I suppose in a few years I will come to look at these responsibilities as a blessing.  At some point I will be able to relish the opportunity that she now faces...but not yet.  Even as I write this, I doubt she is there either.  Life is crazy, and its made far more complicated by love.  Maybe her husband is everything she has ever wanted, but everything can wait.  We can't control when we fall in love...but that doesn't mean we should be in any rush to grow up.

Letting it Happen

I was recently talking to a friend when we landed upon our favorite topic of conversation: babes.  When I met him in the fall semester I took him under my wing when it came to girls and he returned the favor when it came to my engineering homework.  Having been born in Pakistan, and living in a variety of places throughout the world growing up, he was a little naive when it came to dealing romantically with the opposite sex.  Despite this, the more time we spent together, the more I began to realize just how damn popular he was.  Everyone knew him...and more importantly girls were always talking to him.  Countless times we would be getting some food, or walking to class and babes would shout out to him from the table next to us, or from across the quad.  At first, it confused me that amongst all the drunk hook-ups and slutty behavior on a college campus, that he couldn't easily join the fray especially considering how popular he was becoming.  I figured, hell girls were never as happy to see me as they were him, and I didn't have any problem meeting someone different every weekend.  

This was a dilemma I could never quite figure out, until our most recent conversation.  He told me that he was adopting a new approach: he was going to let someone come to him.  He told me that he had always gone out looking for girls, but he found it to be rather pointless now.  For whatever reason this realization made a whole lot of sense to me.  You see, it always seems a lot harder to find whatever it is you want when you are actually looking for it.  The best things come naturally, and are unexpected, which makes them that much more rewarding.  My friend's greatest mistake during the fall semester was trying as hard as he did.  Yes, of course everyone knew him because he was outgoing and involved on campus.  There was no doubt he was well liked, but his intense friendliness came off less personally than he meant it to be.  People notice when you are trying too hard, and sometimes have difficulty relating to the kid that everyone knows.  I think when applied to girls, letting things happen is vital.  Trying too hard is unattractive.  Caring too much is considered nerdy.  Every babe is looking for the "cool guy."  Now this doesn't mean you can't be a genuine bro, but its important to chill.  When you desperately search for love, it always seems that you wind up disappointed.  Go out, and live without expectations...if you do that, I think you'll appreciate whatever you find.

Polar Opposites

Every once in a while you meet a girl that you instantly despise.  When I say despise I don't necessarily mean that you have some terrible type of hatred for them or anything of that nature, but despise in the sense that you feel that everything you stand for as a human being is contradicted by her.  From the types of people she hangs out with, to the way she dresses, to maybe even her political views, everything she does goes completely against your beliefs.  She is the completely and utterly your opposite...and yet you want her.  Everything she does, every move she makes fills you with contempt, but at the same time mystifies you.  You wonder, how could anyone be so different than you?  She may be gorgeous, she may be cute, hell she may just be straight up plain, but none of that matters, because for some ungodly reason you are attracted to her.  Not in the traditional sense though.  You aren't attracted to her in the "oh she's a cute girl, I want to take her on a date" sense.  No, this attraction is different.  Put quite simply, you want to take her to bed.  In your mind you realize that if you think this girl is completely different from you, she must think the exact same thing of you.  The thought of you must mystify her in the same way it does you.  With this in mind, you know that under most circumstances she wouldn't be caught dead with you.  And this is where the fun begins.  You see, the reason why you want this girl so much, is because you would love nothing more than for her to want you.  For her to realize that you are totally wrong for her, and yet be unable to stop herself from getting with you.  

Now fellas, I don't really know where I'm going with this.  In fact, I can't say I've ever met a girl where I have truly had this feeling.  But I can imagine what it might feel like.  And I'd like to give you a little advice: go for it.  Flirt with her, charm the hell out of her, and make her fall for you...and when she does really enjoy it, because its a one time deal.  Even she will know hooking up with you is a one night stand.  I normally don't condone such promiscuous behavior, but I must say this is the one time I would allow, no in fact promote it.  I doubt there is anything more satisfying that getting with a girl you actually somewhat care for, but I would argue that this is the next best thing.  I guess its somewhat empowering to hook up with a girl that is truly your opposite.  If you can get with her, I would imagine you could be successful with anyone.  The next time you meet that girl...you know the one that you just can't stand but are desperately attracted to, work your magic.  Make her realize, why your side is right one.

Finding the Common Ground

The following is an essay that I plan to submit for a competition in a newspaper.  I may make some final revisions before submitting my final draft, but this is pretty much it.  I know, it is long, but worthwhile I think.  The prompt was to write about dating in college.  Enjoy.

The other night, my roommate brought a girl back to our room that he had been talking to for the past couple weeks.  I was lying on my top bunk, trying to digest what the last several hours of my Saturday evening had entailed, when she came shyly through our door, giggling quietly, as she took a nervous glance up at me.  Quickly, I tried to process what was happening.  Yes, it was true, it had been a long night, but hadn’t my roommate just said he was going to break things off with this girl?  Before I asked her what the hell she was doing, I turned to him, and was met with one of those sheepish looks, the kind that you get from a nine year-old boy who has just been caught stealing a cookie before dinner.  With one glance he told me two things: I know what I’m doing, and I’m aware I probably shouldn’t be doing it.  It was all I needed to know.  I turned, said hello to the girl, and went to sleep.   

This type of story is not uncommon in college life.  In fact, it is one of the two ways that we interact romantically with the opposite gender.  College students engage in either casual sex and countless dance floor make-out sessions, or embark on intense and serious relationships that often drain the passion from life focusing instead on commitment and devotion.  My first weekend at school, I met two drunk sophomore girls who didn’t waste any time in bringing me to their room to show me the place on the wall where they mark how many guys they hook-up with.  The rules were simple: no repeats, and no girls.  They took the competition seriously, and the more I talked to them, the more I began to suspect that they were both hoping to add me to the wall.  Surprisingly, this type of behavior is commonplace.  I heard one girl justify hooking up with someone by saying that “I was just trying to get with three guys in one night” and witnessed another have casual sex with a kid that lived down the hall from me for about a month, until she heard he was getting with someone else, and all of a sudden felt betrayed. 

On the opposite side of the aisle are the serious daters.  You know, the freshman in college who act more like they are approaching their 20-year college reunion, because they have life, or at least love, “all figured out.”  The ones that more often than not met in high school and are enduring long-distance relationships because hell it just doesn’t get much better than your high school sweetheart does it?  They are the types that can be found in the corner of any college party, nervously sipping on a beer, while they stare at their phone anxiously awaiting a response to the text message that they sent to their significant other.  Long-distance or not, the lives of these kids revolve around technology.  From skyping, to constant texting, interaction is almost continuous.  I met a kid at school, who fit this mold perfectly.  From texting while studying for the next exam in Chemistry, to taking breaks in between games of squash to respond to messages, I felt that when we were together, he talked more to his long-distance girlfriend than me.  One day, I asked him what they always talked about.  I figured she must have been one real interesting girl to hold his attention for so long.  Alas, I was disappointed with his response.  He told me in a very matter of fact way that they didn’t talk about much of anything.  I may be paraphrasing, but his response went something like this.  “Oh we just talk about what we are up to like studying or doing our laundry.  We don’t talk about anything serious.”  I was appalled.  Quite simply, I couldn’t imagine anything more tedious.  I told him my opinion, and he responded in a straight face that he felt sorry for me.  “I have life all figured out.  I go to a great school, I’m going to get a great job, and I have found the girl I want to marry.  You don’t know where you are going to be tonight.  You meet a girl one night, and can’t remember it the next morning.  What’s the fun in that?” 

The problem with my generation is that we are caught between two extremes.  The ability to communicate with one another has jaded our view of relationships.  Suddenly, dating someone isn’t about merely enjoying one another’s company, but rather about being in constant communication. During high school, I dated a girl that expected me to text her all day every day.  Each morning I would wake up to a message starting the conversation, and each night I would mercifully end the day, and more importantly the texting.  For a couple of months, I was able to put up with such behavior.  However, eventually, I simply ran out of things to say.  I had been drained to the point of no return.  Every college kid is afraid of becoming that relationship.  We have become so terrified, that talking in general is frowned upon.  The system generally goes like this: guys begin dancing with girls, and all of the girls friends judge the boy’s looks and send some type non-verbal message to the girl he is with, letting her know whether or not they approve.  If he makes the cut, she is free to spend the night with him.  If not, she simply walks away.  Either way, little or no actual communication is needed.

I realized long ago that I needed to find some type of common ground in order to have any type of normal relationship.  The idea of having a girlfriend had always appealed to me, but I knew I needed a girl who would allow me freedom.  I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my individuality simply to attach myself to a girl, so I played the game waiting for someone to come along.  When several months ago, I found myself talking to the very type of girl I was after, I was stunned.  From her obvious intelligence, to the simple fact that she was Eastern European (an international student) she was much different than any girl I had ever tried to talk to. My initial flirtatious and cocky attempts to impress her were met with an almost icy resistance, and she waited until I engaged her in real conversation before opening up.  As we began to spend time with one another I was instantly attracted to her demeanor.  She was confident, almost to the point of arrogance. I knew right away that she would never try to attach herself to me.  She was way too proud to let any guy take advantage of her, and yet she was genuinely interested in what I had to say.  For the first time in my life, I actually talked to a girl.  When I say this, I mean that I had a complete conversation, not one filled with flirtation, or idiotic small chat. 

When after last semester, I decided to transfer, we went out to dinner to discuss whether or not we should stay together.  All of a sudden, I found myself wanting the same long-distance relationship that I had always mocked.  Except, I wanted to do it differently.  Skyping everyday was for saps.  Continuous texting?  C’mon, really, I’m much too busy for that.  On weekends I’m never the guy standing alone in the corner staring nervously at my phone.  Instead, I live my life, and she lives hers.  We often go several days without talking to one another, but when we do we always have something to say.  We both have demanding schedules, and we prefer to give one another the space to accomplish everything we need to.

Despite this, I don’t pretend to have everything figured out.  In fact, neither of us does.  Both of us have days where the distance seems too much to handle, and moments where we wonder whether or not it’s worth it.  Yet, oddly by limiting how much we talk, we have seemed to grow closer to one another.  We never talk merely for the sake of communicating, but rather for the enjoyment that we take from one another’s thoughts.

On weekends, I go out and help my roommate and some of our other friends pick up girls.  I have been described as the “perfect wingman” and in fact I was essential in helping my roommate grab the interest of the girl who came back to our room.  My role is rather important: I deflect awkward situations and look to smooth over the flow of conversation whenever possible.  Each night presents new opportunity, and since I have no expectations, I have evolved into the ultimate team player.  One friend said, “With your looks and charm, you could hook-up with pretty much anyone you wanted.”  I took the compliment in stride, but I guess in reality that’s not what I’ve ever really been after. My generation lives in a world surrounded by the hook-up culture, and now that I’m on the outside looking in, I can admit I’m in no rush to go back. 

The next morning I awake to see the girl tiptoeing out of our room, to take the “walk of shame” back to her dorm.  I look down at my roommate sprawled on his bed, looking as if a train had just hit him.  “Was it worth it?” I ask.  “It never is” he responds, “I have to take a shower.”  

The Popular Girl

You have all seen her before.  You have all had crushes on her, you have all yearned for her, hell maybe even one or two of you has been lucky enough to get with her.  Nonetheless, I think we all know who I'm referring to: the popular girl.  The babe that strutted around high school like she owned the place, or got rushed by like 11 sororities during her freshman year of college.  The girl that has broken the heart of many a bro without so much as a backwards glance, because she only dates "older guys."  The type that does everything with a "posse" because let's face it, from pre-gaming before going out on a saturday night, to merely studying in the library, the popular girl is rarely, if ever, seen without a flock of "bffs."  From the perfect outfit, to the rehearsed smile, the popular girl seems perfect in every way imaginable.  Because of this, everyone wants her.  Unfortunately, most fail to realize this dream.  I'm here to tell you how to make your dream a reality.

By far the most popular, and amateur method of getting with the popular girl, is to force yourself into her posse.  While every popular girl has a large group of female friends, she also has a fairly noticeable contingent of guys who seem to follow her every move.  These are the boys (I call them boys because this is how much I despise this method.  Honestly, it is the most juvenile of tactics.) who try to get close by becoming good friends first.  Now, don't get me wrong, there is absolutely nothing wrong with getting to know a girl, and even being friends with her, before you take it to the next level.  However, these boys aren't interested in that.  They want in, because they want influence.  They can be seen in every cafeteria on any college campus crowded around the popular girl at dinner trying desperately to gain recognition.  From talking badly about the latest of the popular girl's suitors, to presenting themselves as the "good guy" their methods are smarmy.  They have become so obsessed with the babe, that they would be willing to sell their soul to the devil to be her boyfriend.  Fortunately, more often than not the popular girl is acutely aware of this fact.  She is quick to label these boys (she has undoubtedly dealt with them often) as way too easy, and discredits them immediately.  At this point, they have little shot.  Of course, she will string them along, but only to pretend to present a little competition for someone that might actually have a shot.

Now, with that being said, there is no guaranteed way to get with the popular girl.  You see, the popular girl always has options, and generally they are pretty good.  No matter how smooth, or charming you are, there is always the chance that some other bro might have even more game.  When you play with the best sometimes you lose. (although in my case, not all that often.)  Here is how I generally approach the popular girl: I always, always, always start slowly.  I try to hangout with them in groups.  This does not mean that I am uncomfortable alone, but I have found that groups makes things more casual which is good in the early stages.  Coming on too strong spells disaster.  Despite this, I don't completely discourage flirting.  Flirting is always good, especially when done with everyone around.  The popular girl is ultra sensitive to guys "creeping" on her and flirting in a social atmosphere makes it seem like you are just enjoying the evening without coming on too strong.  I generally like to keep things at this level for a couple weeks.  There is nothing wrong with waiting, and the popular girl will feel begin to feel jealous if you have other things (or girls) to do besides hitting on her.  You see, the popular girl rarely has to compete for attention, and this possibility is exciting to her.  During this period, don't go out of her way to talk to her.  Of course if you see her say hello, but brush it off like you are being friendly.  This type of behavior is bound to drive her crazy.  If executed correctly, she will begin reaching out to you.  From inviting you to parties, to talking to friends about you, you will jump to the top of her list.  Staying calm is key to the whole process.  Act like you have been there before, and are comfortable in any situation.  The popular girl has to deal with nervous and unconfident guys on a regular basis, and she will find it refreshing to meet someone that she doesn't feel like she has to take care of.

Getting the popular girl is without a doubt a challenge.  Just do yourself a favor and don't suck up.  Its unbecoming, and will get you no where.  Play the game, and give the babe time to give you an opportunity.  When she does, take full advantage.