Letter to the Editor | Friday, November 21, 2008
Dear 23 girls I have hooked up with this semester,
Thank you for the hook-up. It was… spectacular, stimulating, mediocre, awful, mind-blowing, forgettable (is it 25?), awkward, heavenly, tricky, licky, sticky, and all together a solid time. From my experience, it was the typical senior year post-Feve hook-up.
Yes the hook-up itself was fine, but afterwards we’ve run into a problem. The problem isn’t the dining hall, I’m a senior, I don’t have a meal plan. It’s the parties, in class, at bowling, Corby’s, and Feve. It’s the way you look at me, like you totally want it again. I want to scream, “Yes we did hookup once and I know I was great but there’s no way you’ll get that lucky again!” Other times we see each other and you totally eye me or you suddenly ditch the people you’re with to throw yourself at me. To be fair, I think I may have been ignored by a few of you (actually that never happens, you all can’t get enough).
What about your number, did I ask for it just as a matter of course? Yes. But you had to request mine and now my thumb is getting tired silencing your calls. Is this your way of saying, “Thanks for the hook-up. It was the best thing I’ve ever experienced and I’ll never be the same?” Get over me. How many of you have deleted my number? The answer is none of you because you treat my digits like the winning lottery numbers.
Blame me for not calling you. I didn’t break my phone and I haven’t lost your numbers. I simply have no interest in seeing you again. If I do call, you know I am black out drunk looking for a booty call. Could we ever be friends? No. Ignoring you, apparently, is the only choice I have.
Of course, I’m not blameless. You were the most convenient form of instant gratification I could find, hoodrats and dimes alike. I realize that but won’t admit I am as guilty as you are. Stop knocking at my door at 1 a.m. begging to come in. Stop climbing in my window and lying in my bed hoping you’ll get another shot.
Even though I doubt you are willing to do this, I am sure of one thing: You 23 girls (25?) are not even close to where I draw the line. This weekend, and all weekends until I graduate, I will continue to add more conquests to my Excel spreadsheet. I will hook up with as many random girls as possible. Not because I am looking for a girlfriend or wife, but because I want to exploit your body. At Notre Dame, I am trying to get some play, and I’ll never find a new hobby. Why should I? You still want it. Good thing I won’t see you at the dining hall, I cook.
Melissa Buddie’s next hook-up
P.S. don’t worry about our (insert whatever we did together here), I’m clean, you didn’t get it from me.