vodka water enthusiatsts, bad at love, good at advice.
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Chapter 4.So you committed floorcest: Here’s what you do now.
Floorcest- The act of hooking up with another resident living on your dorm floor
I distinctly remember the first time he checked me out. There’s the best of times, and there’s the worst of times. The worst of times is when your favorite decides to be picky when they card and it turns into a bitch to get into the bar. This was during the worst of times.
I had gotten back from a failed night at the bar. No one was there and it was lame as hell, so I found myself in the hallway of my dorm. The aforementioned King of the South, and we’ll call him James, was in the hallway as well. We got to talking and I explained the difficult carding situation at the bar. I handed him my fake ID and said, “I don’t know how I got in. My fake isn’t great and I look like I’m 12 in general.” He looked straight at my boobs and said, “In that shirt, they’re sure as hell not lookin’ at your face, honey.” And that was the beginning of it all. Throughout the semester, we had little exchanges like this. I always caught him checking me out. Then, one night, it happened.
It had been a prime night at the bar, a perfect Friday. James and I had both been there, and we always exchanged pleasantries when we saw each other around the bar, normally involving a hug and drunken attempts at flirting. I left the bar with my friends, and I went to the bathroom when I got home. I walked outside of the bathroom and looked up to see James standing in the hallway.
“I’m gonna help you into bed,” he said. I agreed. One thing led to another, and the next thing I know he’s getting dressed and bolting out of my room.
I’m not the type of person to make post-hook up interactions weird. James made it weird. He lives down the hall from me and I barely saw him, let alone heard from him for weeks. He avoided me like the plague. This is typical of boys if you live with them. They act weird once they’ve seen your boobs and everything else God gave ya. But, here’s what you do if this does happen to you:
Don’t make it weird. Don’t runaway and squeal when you see them. Say “Hello!” and carry on with your life
Don’t try and make it happen again. Odds are, since most guys are douchebags, it’s a one and done deal. Accept it. Move on.
Do not talk shit on him. He probably doesn’t even realize he’s doing anything wrong if he’s making it weird. Boys are dumb that way. Don’t make yourself look like a bitch just because you’re frustrated.
Again, move on and don’t catch feelings. I’ve caught feelings for a boy that lives on my floor. It’s a horrible, awful idea. You don’t want to have a huge crush on them and then see them bring home a shacker, right? Nope? Didn’t think so.
There you have it. The main idea is don’t catch feelings and be casual. And, for the love of God, don’t be awkward. That just makes everything 100 times worse.
James and I went about our lives and ended up getting back to the point where we were before we hooked up. We always say hey when we see each other and regularly like each other’s instagrams. It’s platonic, it’s appropriate, and it’s no longer weird. Keep it that way.
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Closest I’ve gotten to floorcest was a brief hookup in the boy’s bathroom stall with the kind of odd KA that lived a few doors down. Can’t relate.
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Dont stay in a toxic relationship just because you dont want to be lonely.
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Chapter 3: Is He A Douchebag? I Can’t Tell
Is he wearing any shade of pastel? Does he say “Saturdays are for the boys” unironically? Is he not-so-subtly checking out the pack of APhis that just walked through the Wheeler’s door? Did he hit you with a “u up” snapchat text between the hours of 1am and 3? Does he claim The Wolf Of Wall Street is his favorite movie? Did he just yell “MY LEFT STROKE JUST WENT VIRAL” when “Humble” played while he was waiting for his $2 well at the bar? If you answered yes to any of these questions, then he’s definitely a douchebag. “But, this can’t be right?” You think to yourself, “This describes every guy i know?”
Welcome to reality. A good 80 to 90% of the boys you meet in college are douchebags. It’s just the way things are, it’s the culture that they adapt to at this point in their lives. I believe that scientifically, when a boy joins a fraternity his testosterone levels shoot up by about 200% thus bringing on a wave of douchiness that didn’t exist when he was merely a high school boy splitting Bud Lites with his lacrosse teammates hours before his 12:30 curfew. He feels entitled to anything with a vagina within his eyesight and believes that his new-found coke addiction puts him on the same level of coolness as the one and only Jordan Belfort.
You can find these boys the moment you step inside any bar any night of the week. They travel in packs, usually accompanied by a sprinkle of groupies aka beautiful baked Alaska girls. Unless, they’re tied down relationship douches, then they’re usually seen with their cupcake girlfriend and her sisters all sipping on dirty Shirley’s and innocently flirting with the single boys at the table. They pound wells and pitchers at a speed guaranteed to make them forget that econ exam they have tomorrow morning and stumble to the dance floor with glazed over eyes searching for some ass to rail their probably smallish clothed dick onto. They’ll drunk text you saying “Fucck I want you so bad” Friday night, but avoid eye contact with you in your chem lab come Monday morning.
Now, I realize it seems that I’m just straight up reading these douchebag boys for filth right? But honestly, these type of boys make the college world go around. Sometimes you just need to drunkenly dry hump that evenly drunk Delt Sig in the middle of the club on a Thursday night. Sometimes you want to save money at the bar and flirt with an unsuspecting Kappa Sig in order to scam a free drink. These boys make your nights out fun and you may even find yourself befriending a few. It’s always good to have a douche on your side, he’ll pretend to be your boyfriend to ward of creeps that won’t take no for an answer and will always tell you if your tits look good in that bodysuit. Plus, their house is always open as a spot to pregame or throw on after-party and they are sure to most times come through with a sober driver on most occasions.
Anyways, point is, if you’re trying to figure out whether or not a guy is a douchebag 9 times out of 10 he usually is one. So the options are either adapt or start hanging around with the stoner geeds. They probably don’t even know who Jordan Belfort is.
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