A new year at BU brings 3,400 BU freshmen, so around 1,700 males. Cut that group down by a solid 1,000 to weed out most of engineering, a lot of pre-med, and some College of Glue and Scissors newbies — that leaves every BU senior with 700 potential mistakes, which will leave affected freshmen with a special, individual night of questioning seniors’ choices in life. If you want to avoid being called Mrs. Robinson for the rest of your college career, you might want to follow these steps.
Check out his outfit:
Before you go home to cry and cradle yourself in a blanket, see if he’s wearing a hometown swim team sweatshirt, windbreaker with a high school logo on it, or God forbid a lanyard (sweetheart c’mon). If you look at his phone there’s a 50/50 chance his background is a prom photo of him and his date, which will weirdly make you jealous and, in turn, make you want to cry more. Nothing good will come of this, so it’s best to nip it in the bud by ruling him out with his lacrosse socks.
Gauge his mood:
If his smile is genuine and he looks like he still has high hopes for his immediate future, he’s a freshman who hasn’t realized the true meaning behind grade deflation. He absolutely thinks that he can balance a social life, a normal sleep schedule, and relatively good grades. You can only pick two at the most. It’s a hard lesson all Terriers have to learn, and he hasn’t gotten there yet. He also definitely doesn’t know that the premise of weeklong syllabus parties doesn’t exist at BU like other schools. Tragic.
Let him pick the topic of conversation:
If he picks ANY of the following, you reeled in a newbie: FYSOP, which dorm is best, which dorm is worst, PIKE, “you have really pretty eyes,” his friends back home, how annoying his roommate is, and finally, “you should come over to study or watch a movie.” The lack of smoothness is almost endearing in an “aw, you’re trying,” way, not in a “please take me back to Rich, Claflin, or Sleeper,” way. Make sure you know the difference.
See how excited he is to talk to you:
You’ve gone through three difficult years of college already. Two of which you probably tried unnecessarily hard to look hot going to class. You’re a senior now and don’t have time for that BS, so chances are you’re in sports shorts and a shack shirt with your hair in a messy ponytail. Maybe you threw on some eyeliner. If so, good for you, you’re doing better than many others. If this guy even gives you 60% of his attention and is nice about it, then he’s a freshman. Yes, you have a sparkling personality, and you’re suuuuuuper fun at parties (you dance on elevated surfaces and everything), but he doesn’t know that and is still trying.
If any of these red flags present themselves, it’s time for you to head to the back row of your 200-level lecture and sulk ’til graduation. You have about eight months left at BU. Try to keep them free of the term “cradle robber,” because nothing will kill your spirit faster than telling your friends about the new guy in your life and then dealing with their abuse when you realize he’s too young to remember when Neopets came out. In the end, it’s better to be alone than in Warren.
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