Future Hot Librarians of America

The college I went to was (and I imagine still is) a strange place. It is the kind of place where every girl attending was in the top 2% of her class. The kinds of girls who maybe stayed in and studied on Friday nights in high school but got to college in a small town where no one knew them? And made up for lost time.

People think that women who go to women's colleges are ugly--in my experience it is the opposite. In fact, there were so many pretty girls that we started calling ourselves the Future Hot Librarians of America.

So, as you might expect, every man within a thirty mile radius of the place spent a remarkable amount of time driving past it. A two lane highway runs right through the middle of campus, with a blinking light signal for the crosswalk. Men will always drive very slowly and stop at the crosswalk.

One sunny day a young high school crashed his truck onto the sidewalk in front of the theatre. A French girl had been sunbathing topless in front of her residence hall. The best part of all of this? His daddy was a minister. He was also in the passenger seat and staring so hard that he didn't even notice the kid veering off the road.

We did take advantage of the local boys--something that I do not feel bad about and imagine that they enjoyed. I was a receptionist in my hall and so I knew every single boy that came in and knew where all of the parties. I could also convince these guys to throw us parties and buy us all the liquor we wanted--I just had to guarantee that I could get at least ten girls to come.

My best friend T and I trashed half a dozen coffee tables that spring. We had a tradition of dancing on top of them during the parties--and making every girl there get up with us. We never gave a second thought to scratching them or the one that had the glass center we broke. I would feel bad about that except these were single guys in their twenties--the tables were probably worth about five bucks. And one guy (who hosted our most memorable party that involved us kissing the deer head hanging on his living room wall and an inspired dance to "I Will Survive) took the top off of his and made it into a wall hanging. Like a fucking trophy.

I had a great time in high school and dated and had a normal social life. But until I got to college I had no idea what fucking fools men were. That you didn't have to be particularly pretty or interesting (though of course we were all gorgeous and fabulous), you just had to show up and bring a friend. I learned to just lean back, take another shot and enjoy myself.

And also how to do a killer table dance.