Have you ever had one of those days during which you see an infinite number of happy-go-lucky couples skipping across the Green? Imagine that, you think to yourself, someone has actually found love at the Who'd-I-kiss, Who-else-did-I-kiss, Random hook-up school of the Ivy League. Once again, you think, that lucky person is not me.
On Valentine's day, you resigned yourself to folding the dirty socks from your laundry bag. The only Valentine's day card you received was from Mom, Dad and the family dog. In fact, sweet ol' Mom had taken the time to draw four-little paw prints in the shape of a heart to commemorate the occasion.
You found yourself buying the Food Court chocolate kisses and Mousse-filled cupcakes in order to balance out the Peter Pan peanut butter feast you had elaborately planned for yourself. You rationalized to yourself how fortunate you were that you did not have to spend any of your hard-earned cash on jewelry, flowers and gifts.
Heck, you would have broken up with the person in less than a month. He had a high voice anyway. She always piled the ketchup on her eggs. He had a poster of Donnie from New Kids on the Block on his wall.
Well, if any of the previous information rings true in your life, I have come up with the perfect solution to eliminate those dreaded love woes. It's worked for me and maybe it can work for you too.
In conceiving my plan, I came to the logical conclusion that one of the better places to meet women on this campus is at fraternity parties. However, one of the most disturbing problems that confronts all of us at these campus drink-fests lies in name recognition.
You meet someone. She meets you. Five minutes later, you don't know if her name is Sue, Sharon or Shannon. You don't know if her major is Biology, Psychology or French. For all you know, this person could be from Biloxi, Mississippi, San Antonio, Texas, or Charlottesville, Viriginia. Heck, you might not even remember if you were actually talking to the person or if she just happened to be standing in your path as you approached the kegerator for the umpteenth time.
Then, of course, you meet "someone's friends". After ten minutes of talking about how much you hate a professor, how much you drank in the past 2 hours and how much of your time you spend body-shaping in the weight room, you have absolutely no clue with whom you are talking.
Does this guy play football, baseball or Parcheesi? Is he a brother at Sigma Roe, Gamma Nu or is he a random Del Taco employee? Was he leaving Monday or does he drive a Hyundai? Was he a rocks major or did he like banging his head into brick walls?
And most unfortunate of all, you might have actually taken a liking to the guy who could balance the "Mad Dog" bottle on his head while he chugged the ladle full of Boone's and Beast. Or perhaps you were going stir crazy over the gal who could clogdance, gargle Woodchuck Draft Cider and sing the alma mater at the same time.
The following morning, with Extra Strength Tylenol in hand, you chide yourself for not remembering the person's name you had met the night before. All day, you ask your friends, "Who was that guy I was talking to last night? You know -- the guy with brown hair?" You desperately want to blitz him/her but you have no idea who he/she was.
Well, herein lies my solution to this continuing campus problem. I would tell women that it is entirely possible to blitz "Him," you know, "That guy" you were playing Foosball with in the basement of Mu Theta. Yup, him. Just send a message to "Him" over BlitzMail and profess your undying love or unbelievable attraction for "That Guy." He will be sure to receive it and promptly respond. That goes for you too, guys. -- send that message to the girl you were talking to last night.
If you're wondering what I'm talking about, my two nicknames on BlitzMail are "Him" and "That Guy." This past term, I have received 221 random Saturday and Sunday morning blitzes, had 46 dates, attended six sorority formals, eight dorm formals, been treated to lunch at Panda House 14 times, brunch at the Hanover Inn seven times, dinner at Molly's 12 times, received countless Valentine's cards and chocolates and been introduced to four sets of parents.
Who ever said relationships at Dartmouth are impossible? All you need is a little ingenuity and a BlitzMail account.
