The hook-up culture
Letter to the Editor | Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Dear six guys I’ve hooked up with this semester, Thank you for the hook-up. It was … decent. From my experience, it was a typical freshman year hook-up.
Some of you shamelessly lead me on, while with others it just sort of happened. Obviously, I wanted it too because I definitely didn’t stop you. In fact I love to kiss boys, my roommates and I refer to it as “my hobby.”
Yes, the hook-up itself was fine, but afterwards we’ve run into a problem. The problem is the dining hall, at parties, the quad, and in class. It’s the way that you look at me, with that awkward stare that makes me want to scream “Yes we did hookup once and no we haven’t talked since then!” Other times we see each other and you quickly dart your eyes to avoid eye contact or suddenly become enthralled in conversation with the nearest object. To be fair, I think I may have gotten a “hey” from one or two of you before (it’s been a while though, so forgive me if my memory isn’t perfect).
What about my number, did you ask for it just as a matter of course? Is it your way of saying,”Thanks for the hook-up, can I have your number so that I can delay your realization that we are never going to speak again?” Well it worked, I gave every one of you my number and haven’t heard from most of you since. How many of you would actually call me if you needed someone to go grab lunch with? Or if you needed help studying for a class that we both have? How many of you haven’t deleted it, or are just now realizing that I must be that mysterious “Melissa” entry in your contact list?
Don’t blame me for not calling you, a broken phone can attest to the fact that I’ve lost most of your numbers. I doubt you would answer even if I could call you. I’m a good person and an even better friend. But obviously, since we hooked-up, it would be too much to ask that we ever consider friendship as an option. Ignoring each other, apparently, is the only choice that we have.
Of course, I don’t render myself blameless. Our hook-up was the most convenient form of instant gratification that we could find. I realize that and I admit to being just as guilty as you are. But next time I smile at you on the quad, or say hi to you in class, can you pretend that you haven’t gone both deaf and blind since that night that we met at that party?
Although I doubt that you are willing to do that, I am sure of one thing: You six guys are where I draw the line. This weekend, and all weekends until I graduate, I refuse to add to this list. I won’t hook-up with any more random boys. Not because the act itself wasn’t enjoyable, but because this campus isn’t that big and I can’t afford to have any more boys refusing to look me in the eye when I walk down South Quad. At Notre Dame, I am looking to make friends (not boyfriends, fiancees, or husbands) and hook-ups obviously lead to anything but friendship. I can find a new hobby, hopefully something that really does make me happy, but I will not hook-up. I’ll see you at the dining hall.
P.S. – Don’t worry about our kiss under the arch – unless we move to Utah, it’s unlikely that all six of you will find yourselves married to me.