So...this is the initial test run of The Pioneer's very own sex column. As an apartment of three very distinct individuals, we all jumped at the chance to put in our own two cents. It is safe to say that we all have very different (philosophies?) (outlooks?) on the issue, and shall now attempt to cater to the vast population that is Cooper Union. We have all agreed to take up a portion of your time to talk about our past, current, and hopefully future sex lives.
Well, for starters I don't know why I was approached to write in this column, when the most contact I have with male figures is repeated visits to Ray's for BAGELS. Oh yes and my hot dates all seem to fall on not Friday, but Tuesday nights, right after Gilmore Girls, when Smallville comes on channel 11. This is not of course to say that I am necessarily a straight, white girl that likes tall well-built men named Clark. In fact I would prefer you have no idea who I am. I wish to remain anonymous because of the embarrassing nature of the pathetic absence of action in my life. Am I the only one walking around in a perpetual state of lust or, at the end of the day, does everyone just return home to their inflatable DOLLS and other substitutes for human interaction?
All right, so this one time I was at a party and the subject of dating at The Cooper Union came up. A male artist there offered his take on the situation: apparently, he spends his summers chasing women so that throughout the school year he could remain celibate and channel all his sexual energy into his work. Upon hearing this I immediately thought of some squirrel hoarding nuts for the inclement weather, and I don't know how accurate this analogy is, but it does provide the opportunity to make jokes about nuts. Anyone?
But anyway, is this a common thought process? Should I forget my summer jobs and instead chase potential dates around my hometown and then live in abject poverty for the rest of the school year? (Note: I don't know why I'm asking so many questions of the reading audience since there isn't one. But that won't stop me from bitching about my life).
I was about to light one up when a greek god of a man walked up to me and asked me if I had a spare one. All I could do was smile like a fool and give him my last cigarette. The moment was ruined (as if I didn't do a good enough job of doing it myself) when he asked if I had another one for his friend, the one standing a few feet away. Well that friend turned out to be a luscious chick with a bare midriff and long legs. Not that I was complaining about my legs- they were just in need of a good shave, is all.
Well anyway, my mind had only one thought going through it; I couldn't refuse my last cigarette to this guy because… well, one look at him and I was transformed into a blubbering idiot with a ridiculous grin that made me look like a maniac. (I don't deny the fact that I am mad, I just like to hide that eccentricity from the rest of the world.)
I am a sucker for greek gods - you know the type: the tall, dark and handsome men who come out only at night, wearing all black, with perfect postures, teeth and hair. The type of men, who if arrogant (which most, if not all are) still attract crowds of women but go for the girls who seem dumb and shallow like the chick with the legs and midriff.
Well as I say, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, even if the beholder is blind and does not crave any interesting conversation.
I have only just moved to Manhattan. Born and raised in the wilds of upstate, my previous college experience consisted of dorm room gossip sprinkled with vicarious tales of Felicity's newest college adventure, and episodes of Sex and the City. Weekends were filled with beer kegs, toga's and football games. I had my small share of encounters with both men and women over the two years I spent there - all very short and very scandalous.
While all that may seem fun and exciting I was dying to get out. The months preceding my big move here were spent wildly anticipating the weekends out in the big city- late nights at the bars, glamorous clubs, the mysterious sexual partners I hoped to encounter, and that fateful one that I would bump into on the subway or on the street who would magically fall head over heals in love with me. Bull sh-t!
Since being here I have encountered very little of that, and what I want to know is, in a city with so many people, why aren't more of them getting together or at least getting it on? Don't others feel sexually deprived? I know I can't be the only one, just look at my roommates. So what is it about this city, and this school? Why aren't we living out the lives of Keri and Miranda on Sex and the City? Whatever the reason is I hope to soon find out.
Feel free to send questions, comments and any fascinating stories of exploits to pioneer@cooper.edu.
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