Picking my way around Solo cups down the [undisclosed] frat house hallway and pausing briefly to pretend that when I slipped on one it was on purpose, I finally found and knocked on number 3.
An angry “what?” sounded from inside.
“Is this”¦ Jason*?” At the sound of my voice, there was a sudden, frantic scrambling ““ a figure moved behind the peephole.
“YES!! Finally!” The door swung open and the bro-tanked, on-the-short-side Jason stood beaming, flushed. “You came! I thought you never would!” I was only a couple minutes late, and a little confused. “SOOoo, shall we “¦” He trailed off, fumbling as he unbuttoned his shorts.
“Whoa! Nonono, please keep your shorts where they are.” He froze, and looked at me with his head tilted, like an adorably confused bro beagle. He seemed to get an idea, then dove quickly for my fly instead. “JASON! I’m Leah, I’m here to do an interview for Campus Basement, I don’t know what you think this is ““”
I backed away and his face fell, the joy draining from it like a kid’s on Christmas morning who got a shiny new red bike and was just told it wasn’t there to have sex with him. “Balls,” he said quietly. He collapsed into his desk chair, his head in his hands. “Balls. Of course, the interview. I’m so sorry-”
“Jason, this is why I’m here.” I knelt next to him, a hand on his hand. “The world needs to understand your pain.”
After Jason stopped trying to remove my clothes without me noticing and had a drink of water, he calmed and we were able to get to the heart of his issue. Jason is one of many struggling young Greeks feeling betrayed by promises he would be “swimming in ladytang” and “at a literal risk of drowning in sorority vag” once he joined a fraternity. In fact, many studies have recently shown statements like these could be hyperbolic.
It doesn’t change the fact, though, that when polled about the reasons they joined a fraternity, 12% of active members said “bromance,” 16% yelled their frat letters and high fived the person nearest them and a staggering 62% said some usually-obscene variation on “I would like to have sex with more women” (10% were too drunk to answer).
Jason argues his life’s lack of lady parts isn’t for lack of trying, but another brother of the [undisclosed] fraternity presented an opposing view. It’s unclear whether this is further propaganda, but Alex**, Jason’s roommate, explains: “you gotta be moderately attractive and cast a wide net. That’s seriously it. I don’t know what’s wrong with that dude.”
Somehow, Jason still has faith that some-getting is in store. “Since my pledging semester, I’ve been sitting quietly in my room, mostly. Waiting. I’m about to graduate, but I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ve seen a single boob, all of college.” He turns away suddenly, and bites a knuckle to stave off a wave of emotion. “And it was possibly a man’s.”
I didn’t have time to get an explanation, as I’d taken Alex up on his offer to make out and began ignoring Jason. It is unclear who is at fault for the vagina-themed shortcomings in the lives of Jason and other frat bros, disappointed by unfulfilled promises of being able to “get all that” once they pledge. We may never understand the apparent discrepancy between myth and reality, and probably, neither will Jason.
*Name has been changed to protect the identity of those not getting any.
**Name has not been changed. It seems as though Alex gets a lot.