Confessions of a Part-Time Cougar
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Confessions of a Part-Time Cougar

PSA: formal fraternity rush is here, and it's a total game-changer.

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Confessions of a Part-Time Cougar

Ah, the days of being a PNM. Spending every morning nervously lined up outside a sorority house, clutching your name tag and using stealth-mode peripherals to judge the competition (don't deny it, I know I wasn't the only one). The occasional drive-by from a truck full of frat boys sending the line into a giggling frenzy. While I was always impressed at the success rate of the "slow cruise," I never really understood why guys would come to school a week early just to scope out the incoming women in between their recruitment events.

...but then formal frat rush happened, and it all became so clear.

As I stepped onto Greek Row the other night, I was met by a parade of boys—each of whom was clutching a name tag and sizing up the other bros out of the corners of his eyes. They looked like a herd of lost puppies dressed in polos, wandering down the sidewalk. I think my vision blacked out for a second, because the next thing I knew, they were all around the corner and I was texting a new article idea to my editor (who will probably read this and fear for my future). Don't worry, Hannah, I fear for it too.

Fraternity rush week had me consider borrowing a truck and slowly cruising up and down Greek Row with a bunch of my girls, checking out the lines of boys outside the frats, and occasionally yelling, “nice ass!” just to watch them giggle and pretend to hate it. It would have been like shooting fish in a barrel full of cologne and Vitali. Excuse me while I mourn those lost opportunities for a moment.

I imagine that the entertainment and fondness I felt when watching those adorably clueless boys interact with each other in their natural environments is akin to what most people feel when they see babies. I wouldn’t know for sure since my reaction to all children involves a tight-lipped smile as I look around for the nearest escape route, but to each their own. Also like babies, college boys are often helpless and pretty much useless...especially the freshmen. Cue frat rush, where they all hope to find mentors and best friends. By going on little mini-dates with them. And wearing name tags. I can't.

At this point, I just have so many questions that need to be answered. Do the chapters have skits? Are there door songs? Do all of the actives have to buy matching suits? Do the new members get embroidered backpacks? If so, can I call them fratpacks? The possibilities are endless.

I can’t wait for Bid Day. 

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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