Hello all. I declare a drought. No, I am not implying that there is any sort of water crisis plaguing central Ohio. Or that we are entering the sequel to the Dust Bowl. In all honesty, I wish that was the case. This, my friends, is far more pressing. I suppose it isn’t technically regarded as a “crisis”, however, I can no longer hold back my strong discontent with the set of eligible bachelors at Kenyon College. Upon undergoing the grueling college process, I was promised that I would be a big fish placed in a tiny, yet crystal clear pond filled with new eye candy. However, going on year two, I feel like a fish gasping for air in an above ground pool that has been drained.
Never did I think that in my prime adolescent years would be in the minority by being single in college. I always heard rumors of folks being paired up early on and being labeled as “Kenyon married.” I laughed. It was funny back then. Alas, things change. And now, everyone and their mother is in a relationship. I cannot escape this honeymoon retreat that I signed up for. I see cute, highly photogenic couples in Peirce, giggling through the glass. Instagram stories of a Clairo song playing as they film their significant other dancing in front of a picnic they made. Please stop.
Trust me, I have tried to put myself out there. The pandemic is not ideal and Tinder is scant. After approximately one hour of swiping and exhausting my local options, I am tossed into an arena of males who dress in camouflage and pose with their two year old son, “looking for a girl who loves to go to the movies…with the kids”. I reside in a freshman year residence hall. Word on the street says going to Chilitos makes you a bad person. Functions are dead. Don’t get me wrong. I am over the moon for the people that have found their hubbies and have decided to settle down at the ripe age of 22. That is wonderful. For them. In the meantime, I’m horny. And have spent my third weekend in a row ordering Domino’s for a small, famished family of 5. So, I propose an experiment of sorts. What if, we all collectively — hear me out — break up with our significant others? If you are that person who won’t leave their apartment because they are on Facetime with “the girl from home”? End it. That power duo that’s been together since they met in their Italian class freshman year? Nothing is forever. Square one, baby. And then let the mingling begin. Imagine that. Imagine all the possibilities. A blank slate. Heartbroken? Bleh. No you’re not. You have a plethora of options! You can finally canoodle with that person in your Spanish class who is just. So. Good. At rolling their R’s. You know you want to. Label this as a cry for help, a moment of desperation, or a girl simply proposing a fun “Love Island” type of experiment. I assure you that I am well aware this is not a plausible idea….however, contact me with further inquiries…and we’ll be in touch.