My first mentality when starting college was one that, probably, everybody has. Frat boys & parties.
I was obsessed with the thought of dating a frat boy. Even though I’d known them for their reputation of being assholes, I thought I was going to find that super sweet one that would love me, or that I could change one from asshole to Prince Charming.
I never stayed around for parties because I hated being alone and my roommate wasn’t really into being friends. I had made some friends, but I’m the type of person who doesn’t want to bother those type of people in hopes that we’ll become friends (in what way, I don’t know.) This probably butthurt my chances of finding a frat boy love, but the HOLY GRAIL invention of Tinder was invented (this is one of the good things my roommate taught me.)
I tindered my little heart out because I was going to get my MRS degree. I was going to get it by the end of my college years, and I was going to be DAMN proud of this. I had potential matches, but had no idea what I was doing at first. I tried and tried my little heart out until someone finally agreed to meet me. I was terrified of this, especially since I had just ended things with my boyfriend (but he has a piece of shit, don’t feel sorry for me, it was all my fault.)
The first man I met from Tinder WASN’T a frat boy. He was some rando guy that actually lied about who he was. Not in that weird way that he wasn’t who he looked like, but he claimed he was a student and I don’t think he was. He was older and it was a terrible experience because his penis was literally an inch. I laughed and went home to take my nephew home the next day with not-sex hair (because it sucked) and a greasy face. The doctor could totes tell my night was grrrreeeaaattt.
I was about to give up on my frat boy Tinder game until I got invited to a house party that was at his frat. At this point in time, I wasn’t too educated in frats at my school. I knew the ~popular ones, but I didn’t really know all of them. It was at a frat that I hadn’t recognized, but I definitely didn’t want to go alone so I consulted my friend on this one. She laughed and called it the “rape frat” but said she might go. Needless to say: I didn’t go to the party, but i did make plans to meet with the man that invited me to this party!
The day we met was an lol-fest that I can barely remember. He tried to teach me how to drive stick shift and was a gentleman. He was shorter than me, however,and i thought this was weird as fuck. I declined to learn how to drive stick completely, so he guided me along. We eventually ended up on our university’s soccer field at midnight, talking. We talked about various things, and how i’d *sworn* that I wouldn’t have sex with anyone on the first date.
Needless to say: we ended up having sex. It was an all-around terrible time, but he seemed to really enjoy it. I mean, of course he did, what guy doesn’t like sex?! We talked after this a lot, but we weren’t exclusive—at least to me we weren’t necessarily exclusive (every time I’d argue with him, I’d go off and stay at my friends house—one night shit went down,basically.)
Our “relationship” continued for awhile until he got tired of my bitchy attitude. He would often tell me that he didn’t care about me and cared more about this other girl. He even took this other girl to his fraternity’s semi-formal because “they had already made plans with his friend.”
Over the summer everything dwindled because he lives in a major city that’s 3 hours away from where my parents live. We didn’t see each other until June when one of my cousins who lives where he does got married. We had sex in my hotel room because that was my life. A month after that he took me to his lake house and we spent the weekend there. He proceeded to tell me that he didn’t care about me, I was just there, etc. He came to my house when I moved in in August, and that was the consummation of the end of our relationship. He now dates my neighbor and often parks in my driveway just to shove it in my face. It’s comical. Really.
The last frat man ironically had the same as the first, however, I don’t remember how I met the last man, but I can tell it wasn’t Tinder. They were in different fraternities because I don’t fuck brothers (ha) and he was nice. He wasn’t my type, though. With the first frat man, I was absolutely consumed with him thinking that he cared, so with this man I backed off and tried to let myself not care. I wouldn’t text or call this man at any time, he would be the first to start our conversations and meetings.
I thought this was the best way to start a relationship that I didn’t intend to necessarily be a relationship. It was a friendship until one fun night at 3 AM on the roof we decided to get into each others pants because “it seemed right.” Even though it probably wasn’t right and neither of us were probably in our right state of minds, we continued our interactions in this way. We also hang out with each other in platonic ways, too, which is what confused me. Near the end (that nobody really knew was the end) I started getting a little bit attached to him and him in general. I met my, now-boyfriend, shortly after and knew it’d be a better decision.
He was really upset when I told him I had decided to get into a relationship because we never talked about that and I had never brought it up. I understand that it was shitty now, but it was definitely for the better rather than the worse. I’m much better off. Of course, my work with the fates has me now seeing him on campus pretty often. We acknowledge each other, but it’s not like we have an “I-got-in-your-pants” reunion every time we see each other. Correction: I don’t.I
I met several other frat boys from Tinder or just in general along the way that were my good friends. I did a favor for someone two weeks after initiation week where a pledge was getting kicked out, but they didn’t want to break it to him. What I thought was a favor turned into some freshman telling me that I need to suck his dick bc that’s what this was all about. lol right? They broke the news to him after he jacked off in front of me and decided it was a good idea for him to cum in my hair. He cried, and I threatened to kill him with a pen, it all ended okay because I got ice cream out of it.
I’ve also met some gentlemen that were frat boys. They were nice, but ended up generally being people that I didn’t have much in common, so it naturally went downhill. I’m not currently (good) friends or acquaintances with any of these men, but I guess it’s all about good memories. The point of all this was to prove that Tinder isn’t where you get your MRS degree. Neither are frat parties.
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