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There’s something to be said about the blatant disregard for safety that comes with a healthy mid-week bar crawl. You can always spot brothers coming back in near drunken comas, kicking over any trashcans unlucky enough to cross their paths. The simple fact is, we as fraternity gentlemen are not required to give a fuck about anything, and believe me we take full advantage.
Let me clarify- we’re obviously not criminals or fools starting shit everywhere we go, but there is a certain swagger that every brother acquires throughout the night that applies a complete transformation. Sure, your administration may discourage use of kegs, drinking games, or another form of selective liver abuse, but we never do any of those terrible things…right?
Always dangerous is the “I dare you” portion of the night, where escalating dares can lead to physical harm to yourself or others, and possible criminal charges. While I can’t in my good conscience encourage climbing to your room because it would “look awesome, bro,” or the elaborate theft of every street sign within a mile radius, I’ve seen it all done. Contrary to popular belief, being in a fraternity does not make you immune to all of the laws in our fair nation, and if you get caught you will get dogged out by the fullest extent of the law.
This attitude applies to our own houses as well. While we all respect our sacred Frat Castles, and have been instilled their values since pledging, a few of those drywalls are just asking for it. And personally, I think a headbutt-dent in a door just adds character.
Finally, the “not give a fuck” attitude carries on to one of our largest priorities: females. Don’t get me wrong, any man worth half of a bid card is always going to be respectful to females, but the attitude we convey still reeks of nonchalance. Sure, you might eventually want to bring that slam home, but you’re not going to let her know that. You play it off, and as long as you aren’t a bottom-tier gremlin I assure you, you will succeed. If it doesn’t work out, you still don’t give a fuck, because there’s 50 other potentials sardine-packed into the exact same room. Too damn easy.