Holly posted last week on the hook-up culture on college campuses. I came upon quite an exchange of letters to the editor about the hook-up culture at Notre Dame that adds to Holly’s post. Who knew? Here is the Nov. 19th letter by a freshman woman which sparked a debate in the Notre Dame school newspaper, The Observer.
The hook-up culture
By: Letter to the Editor
Dear six guys I’ve hooked up with this semester, Thank you for the hook-up. It was … decent. From my experience, it was a typical freshman year hook-up.
Some of you shamelessly lead me on, while with others it just sort of happened. Obviously, I wanted it too because I definitely didn’t stop you. In fact I love to kiss boys, my roommates and I refer to it as “my hobby.”
Yes, the hook-up itself was fine, but afterwards we’ve run into a problem. The problem is the dining hall, at parties, the quad, and in class. It’s the way that you look at me, with that awkward stare that makes me want to scream “Yes we did hookup once and no we haven’t talked since then!” Other times we see each other and you quickly dart your eyes to avoid eye contact or suddenly become enthralled in conversation with the nearest object. To be fair, I think I may have gotten a “hey” from one or two of you before (it’s been a while though, so forgive me if my memory isn’t perfect).
What about my number, did you ask for it just as a matter of course? Is it your way of saying,”Thanks for the hook-up, can I have your number so that I can delay your realization that we are never going to speak again?” Well it worked, I gave every one of you my number and haven’t heard from most of you since. How many of you would actually call me if you needed someone to go grab lunch with? Or if you needed help studying for a class that we both have? How many of you haven’t deleted it, or are just now realizing that I must be that mysterious “Melissa” entry in your contact list?
Don’t blame me for not calling you, a broken phone can attest to the fact that I’ve lost most of your numbers. I doubt you would answer even if I could call you. I’m a good person and an even better friend. But obviously, since we hooked-up, it would be too much to ask that we ever consider friendship as an option. Ignoring each other, apparently, is the only choice that we have.
Of course, I don’t render myself blameless. Our hook-up was the most convenient form of instant gratification that we could find. I realize that and I admit to being just as guilty as you are. But next time I smile at you on the quad, or say hi to you in class, can you pretend that you haven’t gone both deaf and blind since that night that we met at that party?
Although I doubt that you are willing to do that, I am sure of one thing: You six guys are where I draw the line. This weekend, and all weekends until I graduate, I refuse to add to this list. I won’t hook-up with any more random boys. Not because the act itself wasn’t enjoyable, but because this campus isn’t that big and I can’t afford to have any more boys refusing to look me in the eye when I walk down South Quad. At Notre Dame, I am looking to make friends (not boyfriends, fiancees, or husbands) and hook-ups obviously lead to anything but friendship. I can find a new hobby, hopefully something that really does make me happy, but I will not hook-up. I’ll see you at the dining hall.
P.S. – Don’t worry about our kiss under the arch – unless we move to Utah, it’s unlikely that all six of you will find yourselves married to me.
Below is one male response.
By: Letter to the Editor
Dear 23 girls I have hooked up with this semester,
Thank you for the hook-up. It was… spectacular, stimulating, mediocre, awful, mind-blowing, forgettable (is it 25?), awkward, heavenly, tricky, licky, sticky, and all together a solid time. From my experience, it was the typical senior year post-Feve hook-up.
Yes the hook-up itself was fine, but afterwards we’ve run into a problem. The problem isn’t the dining hall, I’m a senior, I don’t have a meal plan. It’s the parties, in class, at bowling, Corby’s, and Feve. It’s the way you look at me, like you totally want it again. I want to scream, “Yes we did hookup once and I know I was great but there’s no way you’ll get that lucky again!” Other times we see each other and you totally eye me or you suddenly ditch the people you’re with to throw yourself at me. To be fair, I think I may have been ignored by a few of you (actually that never happens, you all can’t get enough).
What about your number, did I ask for it just as a matter of course? Yes. But you had to request mine and now my thumb is getting tired silencing your calls. Is this your way of saying, “Thanks for the hook-up. It was the best thing I’ve ever experienced and I’ll never be the same?” Get over me. How many of you have deleted my number? The answer is none of you because you treat my digits like the winning lottery numbers.
Blame me for not calling you. I didn’t break my phone and I haven’t lost your numbers. I simply have no interest in seeing you again. If I do call, you know I am black out drunk looking for a booty call. Could we ever be friends? No. Ignoring you, apparently, is the only choice I have.
Of course, I’m not blameless. You were the most convenient form of instant gratification I could find, hoodrats and dimes alike. I realize that but won’t admit I am as guilty as you are. Stop knocking at my door at 1 a.m. begging to come in. Stop climbing in my window and lying in my bed hoping you’ll get another shot.
Even though I doubt you are willing to do this, I am sure of one thing: You 23 girls (25?) are not even close to where I draw the line. This weekend, and all weekends until I graduate, I will continue to add more conquests to my Excel spreadsheet. I will hook up with as many random girls as possible. Not because I am looking for a girlfriend or wife, but because I want to exploit your body. At Notre Dame, I am trying to get some play, and I’ll never find a new hobby. Why should I? You still want it. Good thing I won’t see you at the dining hall, I cook.
Melissa Buddie’s next hook-up
P.S. don’t worry about our (insert whatever we did together here), I’m clean, you didn’t get it from me.
Wow! These letters get straight to the point and give first-hand accounts. This exchange likely opened a lot of eyes and that is a good thing.