We’ve all heard of the holiday blues. It obviously has something to do with celebrating a lack of friends and another mediocre year that pushes bitter GDIs of all ages over the edge. Yet, the end of the fall semester can be a depressing time for even the most accomplished masters of the fraternal arts. The nightly routine of bar crawls has been put on hold as you try to actually pass the classes you’ve been systematically avoiding for four months. The social semester is wrapping up and unless your Saturdays involve yelling “Roll Tide!” or “Geaux Tigers!” your football team is out of the championship race. But these all pale in comparison once you realize the worst of it: we’ve got a whole year until we get a new batch of freshman. No…not pledges. I’m talking freshman females. The cream of the crop. Unfortunately, they’re all a little wiser by now and it’s going to take some more work to keep that batting average up and the blue balls at bay.
Instead of dwelling on the negative, let’s talk about the excitement of waiting for the next batch to come through. By the time your pledgeship was over you probably realized the special connection between baby sorostitutes and the older guys in your house. Older brothers love freshman girls and the feeling seems to be reciprocal. And how could you blame us…
The Freshmen 15
This shit is real. Freshmen inevitably become upper classmen and upper classmen inevitably get fat. Maybe not completely fat, but definitely fatter. Despite your objections regarding what a dime piece your junior slampiece is, I’m willing to bet she was few pounds thinner at 18. The Natty Light fueled beer belly may add a certain amount of “character” to seasoned fraternity man, but it doesn’t quite work the same magic on the coke whore skinny blonde you railed out last summer.
It’s all about Perspective
When you try to hit on anyone who’s been in school for over a year you’re being compared to the legions of fraternity men she is sure to have met before you. While you are clearly superior than every person you’ve ever met, it’s still a pretty tough field of respectable competition. Not so for the new members. The only guys they’ve been with are high school douches, struggling through puberty with an ill-advised wardrobe and a hair trigger dick. Your apparent excellence will shine even brighter as she compares you to them. Like this wasn’t easy enough. After you get her back home you’ll really see the stars in her eyes. She’s probably slept with one or two guys and 17 year olds aren’t exactly known for their sexual stamina. Your alcohol and Adderall fueled night has allowed you to strike the ultimate balance between “I can’t get it up” and “we’ve been fucking so long I need a Gatorade.” This one night stand will be her greatest sexual encounter and should endear her to you as slampiece status for the rest of the year.
The Law of Diminishing Returns
A lot of things are just better the first time around. If you party as hard as you claim to, then you know those lines off the counter in the bathroom just don’t hit the same as the first bump you did off your Amex on the way out the door. The same holds true for closing the deal on Plan A at the bar. The shameless self-promotion, TFTC attitude, and general aura of superiority we convey doesn’t always work as well on the veterans (probably something do with the fact that you did the same thing when you brought her home last year). So should we change our methods and be thoughtful in our approach while trying to understand her as a person? Fuck that. That’s what freshman are for. Why get creative when you can just slide down the bar to the first available 18-year-old. The babies just can’t resist, so why change the ammo when you can just adjust the scope.