Welcome to the Jungle.
On any given weekend night, many college-goers will wander through the impressive front doors (or small, scary, and dangerous back/cellar doors) of fraternity houses. While there, people may note the decorations, judge the quality of beverages served, or comment on the general atmosphere of the party. They will eventually leave and cease to consider the interior of the given fraternity until the next big bash. However, a select few may continue to wonder at the internal workings of the fraternity after dawn breaks. Fraternities are mysterious entities, and thus I must admit I do not hold all the answers. However, after meticulous research I can confidently present to you the Saturday Morning Frat House.
Red Solo Cups. Everywhere.
You might think this is some overly galvanized stereotype — “the red solo cup" — but, make no mistake, there is reason such objects are banned from sorority girls' social media. These prized objects give a literal meaning to being “caught red-handed," and in the morning hours after a party these little red monsters litter every flat surface imaginable (think: perched atop of a two inch thick TV screen or roughly balanced upon a salt and pepper shaker).
The Passed Out Brother.
This particular individual will 90 percent of the time be very overweight or remarkably thin. Either way, earlier yesterday evening, he determined to “carpe diem" the night, but alas, the night seized him. To the brotherhood, this is perfectly acceptable primetime entertainment and via their encouragement, the brother in question will continue to overestimate his stomach each weekend for the remainder of the semester.
The Many Items Quickly Approaching a Black Hole.
Most of us are familiar with the desperate “Hi guys, I lost my ________ at _______. If you see it, please let me know!" Well, if you are so brave (or rather, desperate), mosey on up to the front door you hazily walked through during last nights' escapades and knock. Your precious Barbour jacket is currently tucked away behind the books on the third shelf. However, you might want to hurry, because its eternal disappearance is imminent.
The 7 a.m. Goodbye.
After a late night out with friends, is it natural to awaken at 7 a.m. and go for a walk? No, I would bet not. But then again, as a female who values comfort, if I came to consciousness sharing an unfamiliar, tiny twin-size bed while staring a roommate I have never met, I would get the hell out of dodge too. A witness to this spectacle may recall a girl dressed in all black stumbling down the front staircase. Likely, she will risk seeing more brothers and take a quick trip to the bathroom in an attempt to mediate her inevitably obvious appearance.
The Noon Departure.
This creature is a little more rare. Setting girlfriends aside, this lady is so cool that she wakes up and proceeds to chill for the entire morning. Despite being asked to “make breakfast," her time there is pleasant, and the brotherhood fully appreciates her honesty in describing brother X's behavior the night before. After fully enjoying her morning, you can witness this individual smile and wave goodbye as she exits the house.
The traditional image of late-night puking into a toilet is just that, an image. The reality is that partygoers feel at liberty to use just about any bowl-like entity to project their night's mistakes into. Thus, in the morning, the brotherhood is delighted with the task of cleaning bile out of bathtubs, sinks, shoes, dresser drawers, crevices of couch cushions, nonstick frying pans, the house dog's water bowl, and more. Seems a bit ridiculous, but then again, toilets are so last season, amiright?
We've all thrown a pregame at some point and understand this problem right? Wrong. Comparing your floors to the floors of this fraternity is like comparing an Elmer's glue stick to cyanoacrylate adhesive. By walking onto last night's dance floor, you risk losing your feet, much less your shoes. You will probably be unable to properly walk on the floors until the weekly cleaning agency attacks it with a hydro pressure machine.
Frat Boy Bonding.
You want comic relief more effective than the Justin Bieber Roast? Figure out a way into these morning powwows. Usually held in the room with the biggest flat screen, these brothers will enthusiastically account for the ridiculousness that was their party. They'll laugh at the rejection doled out by countless females, congratulate someone's making out with a girl he's been crushing on, piece together how the night ended, look at videos of dance performances the performers don't quite remember, argue about who drank more; pat themselves on the back for another successful party, and eventually bring up the idea of a “bro's brunch." Despite the mess, the brothers are more or less hungover and happy to be in each other's presence.