A few months ago when I was complaining to my mother about the unsuccessful hunt to find an NJB (a nice Jewish boy), she told me I was looking all wrong. She said that the “nerds” are the ones to hunt for. Even though her wording was a bit “been there done that," I knew what she meant.
These “nerds” are the ones who aren’t the most attractive, the most social, the most popular people. On the weekends, they’d much rather get ahead on their schoolwork than find another girl to fuck over. When you talk to them, there are some awkward silences and uncomfy eye contact.
They didn’t come to Syracuse to rush or to party, they came for their major and the program they got into. Or who knows, maybe they did plan to party, but they figured out it wasn’t their thing.
After my mother gave me her insight, I aggressively, yet respectfully, avoided every word that came out of her mouth. In freshman year, I was fooled by the backward hat and the Hawaiian shirt that showed off my crush’s biceps.
Yup, I was a frat groupie. I dreamed of the day I would finally spend a night in a frat house. I legitimately pounced on them at parties, where it came to them legitimately pushing me away on my face.
After 5(?) unsuccessful one night stands, I met a boy. Not a frat boy. I didn’t meet him at a party, I met him over a vape and a couple of mutual friends. His eyes screamed “innocent," “fragile," and “kind-hearted." He didn’t talk much, but he always made me laugh when he did talk.
He didn’t make the first move, but he made so many after. He wasn’t hot as fuck, but he held me at night and kissed me on my forehead. At 3 a.m. after one of our meetups, I realized what my mother had said to me months before.
She was right.
These boys are fucking underrated. These GDIs were where it was at. I’ve met great guys this past year, but the ones who actually listened to me, held me at night, and texted me the next day were the underrated.
These were the boys who happened to not be in frats. And if they are in a frat, they’re not in a top-tier one. These are the boys who you would find in a corner at a party, and not in the middle of the dance floor groping your sorority sister.
These were the boys who were always nice to you and asked how you were, but you never could see yourself sleeping with them because they’re almost too good of a guy. They’re cute under that shaggy head of hair, plus they workout, not just lift.
Girls, we’re looking in the wrong places. If you’re looking for a night of disappointment, I’ll oh so kindly hold your hand all the way to Comstock. But me? I’m good to actually just sit back, watch you get fucked over, and find a guy who actually gives a shit.
