The following is a scenario in which a fraternity gentleman and sorority lady meet at the bar. Their thoughts are in italics, and the conversation is in plain text.
Him: Holy shit look at the rack on that girl by the bar! Target acquired. Beginning pursuit. Corny pickup line: engage. “So what’s it like?”
Him: “Being the prettiest girl at the bar right now?”
Her: Really? He just eye-raped my face for ten solid minutes and that’s all he could come up with? I’ll just ignore how terrible that was and put my effort into feigning modesty.“When I find her I’ll ask, but I can only speak on behalf of the thirstiest girl at the bar.”
Him: “Thirsty? What’s your drink?” Walking the fuck away if she asks for a Dirty Shirley.
Her: I wonder if ordering a third double Long Island Ice Tea will send the wrong message. “Vodka-soda with lime, but like a lot of lime.” The lowest calorie path to obliteration.
Him: Generic girl drink. She must be in a sorority. “My pleasure. Bartender, one whiskey-ginger double, and a vodka-soda with lime.” Fuck I hate having to order girly drinks.
Her: (To the bartender) “Wait though, can I get like, a lot of limes. Thaaaanks.”
Him: High maintenance. She better give good head.
Her: “So, how come I’ve never seen you before? Are you in a fraternity?”
Him: How the hell does she not know who I am? “I’m the Vice President of ***.”
Her: I wonder if it hurts his neck to lick his own asshole like that. Whatever. He’s hot, and I’ve only ever MO’ed with some rando mystery man in his fraternity. “I seem to recall a few mixers, I’m in ***.”
Him: I could’ve guessed. Probably don’t remember her from the mixers because I was balls deep in one of her pledge sisters. “Oh, wow I had no idea, I know a few girls in there! A bunch of sweethearts.”
Her: Omg coooool. Shut the fuck up I haven’t been a sweetheart yet. I hate you. “So, what’s your major?” There are literally only two acceptable answers to this question, otherwise I’m out of here.
Him: Hmm…which is more likely to make this girl’s panties drop. Pre-med or pre-law? Maybe I should play The Dad Card, too. “Pre-law, and I absolutely love it. I’m actually interning at my dad’s firm this summer. How about you?” Almost definitely some form of journalism, like every other hot girl in a sorority.
Her: I was done listening once you said pre. Just keep smiling. “I’m a Comm major.”
Him: Fitting, she’ll be communicating with my dick in about an hour.
Her: “I didn’t catch your name.” Because it didn’t matter before I figured out your affiliation and future income.
Him: “Thomas. Thomas Pendlebrook IV. And you are?” If we don’t have sex there is a zero percent chance I remember it.
Her: Roman Numerals, and working on the esquire. I can work with this. “I’m Amber.”
Him: Amber. Amber. Amber. Amber. Don’t forget it. Amber. Amber. “Great to meet you Amber! There’s just one major issue.” Hook. “I don’t have your number yet, and I’m pretty sure you want to give it to me.” Line.
Her: Asking me for my number already. You’re so in love with me, just wait ‘til tonight. No. I’m not like that. I hear being ‘not like that’ leads to lasting relationships. “I’ll enter it for you.” How the fuck do you work this phone? “Here, you save it.”
Him: Sinker. “It’s Amber, right?” Big Tits Amber. Contact Saved.
Her: “OMMGGGG!!! Dirty Dancing is my faveeee ever!! Can we dance?”
Him: “Dirty Dancing? Isn’t this the Black Eyed Peas?” Either way, I can’t fucking stand this song, and I’m pretty sure Fergie has a dong.
Her: “Stoppp! You know what I mean! Let’s dance!”
Him: Thank God ‘dancing’ only means letting her dry hump me while I literally stand there. I can roll with this. “Let’s do it!”
(They head to the dance floor)
Her: “IIIII HAAAAD THE TIME OF MY LIIIIIIFEEEE!” Omg he’s so fun!
Him: I really hope she doesn’t sing every song they play like that. At least she’s a good dancer.
Her: Wow he’s NOT a good dancer…
Him: Almost tripped and ate shit off her foot. Seventh whiskey double may have not been the best call.
Her: Ok really dude…the dancing…not your strong suit. If you’re going to try to butt-fuck me through my clothes at least be good at it. How do I make him make out with me? I’ll just turn around and casually ‘not notice’ that I look like a stripper right now.
Him: Damn she’s a good dancer, or maybe I’m just drunk…or horny. I wonder if a little grab-ass is acceptable? Yep. Acceptable.
Her: Should I pretend to be offended by that? Ehh…too much effort.
Him: Uh oh. I’m suddenly at half-mast. Quick, what’s the best way to subtly hide a boner in public? Time to tuck it up from six to midnight. Relax little buddy, you’ll get your turn later. Just chill for right now.
Her: Annnnnnd there it is.
Him: We’re clear. I don’t think she noticed. Time to get down to business. “So…what are you up to after this?”
Her: Omg moment of truth. What do I do? Where are my friends? I need some telepathic advice right now. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear him. “WHAT?”
Him: She got silent for a second, and then acted like she didn’t hear me. She wants it. “I SAID, WHAT ARE YOU UP TO AFTER THIS? I HAVE A REALLY COOL FISH TANK AT MY PLACE.”
Her: My friends are like…missing, I have no choice but to go home with him. Is this really the rationale I give myself? “I don’t knowwww, I should find my friends.”
Him: I swear to God Amber, your friends are probably gargling my pledge brothers’ balls right now. Let’s cut the bullshit and get to it. “I think I saw them leave, but I’m not sure?”
Her: Welp, good enough for me. “Ohhh, maybe. I’ll just text them when we get back to your place. Do you have a car on campus?” Because if I have to walk home in the morning I’ll fucking kill myself.
Him: Yes I have a fucking car, but your ride home is entirely dependent on your blowjob abilities. “Do I have a car? Ha, good one. Don’t worry I’ll most likely give you a ride in the Tahoe in the AM.”
Her: I don’t like this ‘most likely’ shit. Tomorrow’s going to suck. “Ok.”
Him: “Well how about that? A pledge literally just got here!” Because I texted him 20 minutes ago, foreseeing the inevitable.
Her: “You’re like sooo nice. I never meet nice guys like you.” Omg I’m so drunk. Stop talking. “How are you so wonderful? You’re just like great.” How did this happen? Shut up. “I knew a nice guy once, but I just like…wasn’t feeling it ya know? It’s so weird how that happens.” Amber! Control yourself!
Him: Holy shit if this girl doesn’t stop rambling I’m dropping her off on the next corner. “Yeah…totally.”
Her: “Is this your house?”
Him: Like she hasn’t been here a thousand times. “Yes ma’am looks like we made it to the frat castle in one piece.”
Her: “I just like…love fraternity houses. They have so much character ya know? Like, sorority houses too, but fraternity houses are cooler. I feel like it would be so cool to live in the house. I never did. Sometimes I regret it, but I don’t know if I could live with that many girls. On the other hand, you get so many extra closets.” asdl;kfjzkcxmpjioawzdslkmjc;arheoiawjeck;ap
Him: STOP. FUCKING. TALKING. “Yeah…closets. Here, my room is just this way.”
Her: “Oh, ok.”
Him: Croakies tied around the doorknob. That only means one thing: Williams actually closed tonight, and he got home before I did. “So…my room is a little occupied at the moment, but I know a good place downstairs if that’s cool.”
Her: “Oh, umm yeah, that’s fine I guess.” This is not fine at all. I hate sleeping in places that aren’t a bed. Does he realize who he’s dealing with?
Him: Study room? Locked. Chapter room? Full of drunk retards. To the kitchen we go. “Don’t worry, I’ve got the perfect place.”
Her: Really? The kitchen? Is he trying to send some sort of subliminal message? If we were in MY kitchen, maybe he’d get lucky, but here? NOT A FUCKING CHANCE! This floor is disgusting. I hate everything that’s happening right now.
Him: I wonder if I can get her to whip me up a sandwich when were done…I mean we’re already here. Whatever. She’s not a bad kisser. I wonder what else she can do with that tongue.
Her: Oh hi. Awfully aggressive…and there’s our little friend from earlier. That was easy.
Him: Just gonna let my flag fly now. I wonder how far I can take this. Wait, wasn’t there a game tonight? Jets/Broncos…that’s right. I wonder who won. Jets have that ridiculous offense, and I feel like Rex Ryan makes some kind of sacrifice to Satan before every game. Shit, focus Thomas. It’s time to close. That’s a mighty lovely bra strap you have there…oops!
Her: And there goes my bra. One-handed. Nice. I’m impressed. Maybe this is a bad idea, but I don’t hate that he knows what he’s doing. No wait, this is totally a bad idea. I don’t even know this guy. What’s his name? Something the fourth, esquire? Tom? Tim? No, Tom…it’s definitely Tom.
Him: Engage casual groping. Damn, they feel even nicer than they look. Are they real? They definitely feel real, unless technology has made some ridiculous advancements I wasn’t aware of. Let’s see how this night is REALLY gonna go. Time to boldly go where plenty of men have surely gone before.
Her: Woahh! Where you going with that hand! Should I let him? Fuck. Did I shave today or yesterday? Shit, I think yesterday. Decision made. “Can’t we just like…kiss?”
Him: Can’t we just like…do nothing? You’re wasting my fucking time. “Oh…I totally get where you’re coming from, let’s just go upstairs to my room. My roommate’s probably asleep by now.”
Her: “Ok yeah, I’m tired.” I almost feel bad. Maybe I will hook up with him, he’s so cute. No, this is for the best. Maybe next time.
Him: I forgot how much I fucking hate blue balls. Normally I’d just get her a pledge ride the fuck home, but there’s something about those chest puppies I can’t ignore. New personal mission for the month: close on Amber. It’s fucking inevitable.