SAE is a lot like baseball: it’s full of rich history, guys that fail drug tests, and a whole lot of oral nicotine products. SAE is funny because South of the Mason Dixon line, watching a slavery movie with an SAE would get awkward because they’d end up saying well my Grandpa wasn’t that bad of a guy while up North an SAE would scream GO DJANGO, THAT’S MY MOTHERFUCKIN’ GUY. Southern SAE’s rail lines on boats, wear Chipper Jones jerseys, and date hot blonde girls that weigh one hundred pounds less than they do. Northern SAEs are some of the funniest guys you’ll ever meet, drink any punch like alcoholic substance like it’s water, and have one friend with a weird cult-like appreciation for 42Dugg. An average SAE GroupMe is more incriminating than Hunter Biden’s laptop. These guys drink can drink more beer than anybody you’ve ever met. Hands down, not even close. SAEs are either skinny with good bone structure and a relationship with their dealer that mirrors that of Tony Soprano and his therapist, or rock a dad-bod with facial hair and a Spotify Daily Mix 1 that’s seventy-percent Morgan Wallen.
If you ask a girl that likes SAE about them, she’d say they’re a little crazy, but they mean well, and if you asked a girl who doesn’t, she’d go on a Margaret Atwood style rant that would bring her to tears. Are SAE’s the best humanitarians? Probably not. Are they incredibly fun to shoot whiskey with? Yes. SAEs ride or die for one another. If you have beef with one, you have beef with ninety. No matter what chapter, school, or walk of life they came from, all SAEs share one thing in common- a deep hatred for Kappa Sig. I have many friends that were SAEs from all over the place. They are good guys. Guys that you would have to explain to your girlfriend before she met them, but good guys nevertheless. If you get a bid from SAE, get ready for the best six years of your life.
