If You Are A Boy And Were Born In The '90s...
October 22, 2008 at 11:00 am
When I was in high school, I dated a younger guy off and on for a couple of years. For the most part, driving him everywhere and calling his mom for permission to go to the movies didn’t get to me, until one day when we were fooling around watching TV. Suddenly, on came the Pokemon theme song. Now, I would not be caught dead watching that show--even to this day, I much prefer quality old school Nicktoons to any anime bullshit (Sorry, D)--so to say it was alarming when my boyfriend squealed with excitement, “oh my god I looooove Pokemon. You’re my Pikachu!,” would be an understatement. When we officially broke up and I hooked up with my first college guy (a senior with a record deal) three days later, I concluded that never again would I rob the cradle. Until now.
It hit me when an a cappella group serenaded us at chapter meeting and I caught the eye of an incredibly attractive freshman. Maybe it was his voice. Maybe it was the fact that he was awkward, tall, and blatantly Jewish, which is my type about 66.6% of the time (I won’t get into the jocks and closet cases, today at least). Maybe it was the fact that he was born in the '90s. Or maybe it was the fact that I could see his virginity dangling there by a thread. A sudden rush went through me and I realized my immediate objective: Cougardom.
If you think about it, being a single senior girl leaves you with three options: pick through your own leftovers, work on your thesis at the Penn Law Library dressed in your Halloween costume, or roam the Quad with your legitimate ID on a bitchin’ chain. Now I’ve picked through before, and let me tell you: what happens freshman year stays in that lofted extra-long twin. I would do the Halloween costume, but last year I was a crayon and, as I was in London, wrapped my hair around an open glass bottle of Guinness to suggest I had a tip. I have no balance or tact, so that night was painful, sticky, and funny, but definitely not Law School material. Soooo that leaves the Fresh Meat.
So boys of '12, take note: my screen name’s on my facebook profile, and I can take a break from ichatting my sister to talk to you, even if she's (sadly) the Adelson girl closer to your age.