Date nights at the Illini Union are sultry. Seriously, there’s nothing PG-13 about the shenanigans that go down in this WWII-era building. Unpopular opinion or groundbreaking discovery? Let me walk you through a hypothetical yet dreamy night at the Illini Union, and you tell me which of the two it is…
I can’t help it. DDR gets me all hot and bothered. There’s something about flailing my legs to the obsolete sounds of Ne-Yo that makes me want to spread my legs and tend to my libido. DDR makes me moist, and I’m not talking about sweat, my friends. After showing off your dance moves and impressive endurance, I’m sure you will have worked up an appetite.
Take a trip to the food court where you can wine and dine your date like the spoiled royalty they are. Where else can one person order chicken tacos while the other claims to have a whimsical personality just because they dip their fries into their Wendy’s Frosty? The answer is Heaven, honey. Why not buy some of Sbarro’s world-renowned spaghetti and recreate that passionate scene from Lady and the Tramp? You and your tramp will be the envy of the entire Illini Union basement cafeteria, janitors and all! Actually, the only people down there are janitors, but still.
Imagine turning to your lover with a belly full of fast food and asking, “how about dinner and a show?” Cue the swoon! With all the open mic nights and improv shows going on in the Courtyard Café, the Union is clearly the new Canopy Club, just without the drugs, audience members, and energy. The only thing more romantic than DDR is a pimply freshman with no stage presence strumming along to “Wonderwall” on his mom’s old guitar.
Maybe you don’t stay for the pitchy freshman’s entire set. Perhaps you two sneak away to the confusing-as-shit maze that makes up the second floor of the prehistoric building. Get lost in the dimly-lit hallways. Get lost in each other’s eyes. Two people on a date at the Union have never had spontaneous sex of any kind, so fuck around and fit in a solid dry humping session inside one of the unlocked closets. The possibility of getting caught is thrilling, isn’t it?
Top off your steamy night by checking into one of those sketchy, poorly-decorated hotel rooms upstairs. I’m warning you now: your loins will be on fire by the time you reach that squeaky queen-sized mattress. Be as loud as you want, ya filthy animals. The only people who stay in that hotel are ancient, partially-deaf alumni, so you know they won’t file any noise complaints. After a night of ravenous lovemaking, you can wander on down to Jamba Juice where you’ll both order water upon realizing you can’t afford a $6 smoothie.
Don’t even pretend to be unconvinced. Between the spellbinding entertainment, worldly food court, and rotting wooden walls, you’re going to want to treat your significant other to at least one night north of the Main Quad before the structure inevitably crumbles to the ground. Who knows? Maybe with all the money you save during dinner, you can splurge on a pussy-drenching game of bowling this upcoming weekend.