You’ve experienced a minor side effect of what is known as “The New Boyfriend
Syndrome.” Symptoms include: Loss of bedroom for long periods of time, late
night phone calls, awkward sleepovers with the wildebeest snoring, the smell of
boy-sweat on your clothes, the smell of used condom invading the once clean air,
and in some super severe cases, your Stoli and Bacardi in your fridge being
replaced with ice cold Natural Ice Lager. The only known cure is moving out or…
homicide.
It’s so funny how girls change in the first two months they have a new man in
their lives. It’s the disappearance of them that’s the most disconcerting. For
long stretches of time you don’t see your girl friend and when she does show up
she’s a cyclone of emotion that ranges from
slightly windy to utter devastation. Seriously, it’s either, “James is
having lunch with his lab group today so I wasn’t invited,” or, “I think that
right now at this very moment if I told James I loved him he’d say it back.” And
all you want to say to her is, “Omigod! Alert the police and the news, we can
call off the search party! The prodigal friend has come home! Halleluiah!
Hallelujah!”
"He whimpers like a baby? His jizz shot belongs in the
Guinness Book of World Records?"
It doesn’t even matter that he’s a nice
guy or “greater than any guy she’s ever dated”; the minute he takes
your spot on her MySpace top eight, there’s been a power switch in
your friendship, and the power switch’s name is Bob.
The funniest part about your girlfriend being in a new relationship is
listening to her “future plans” with him. They’ve been dating for one month and
already they’re planning
where they’re going on Spring Break—the following year. I’m not the biggest
romantic optimist in the world, but when it’s December and you’re a freshman
planning a Spring Break trip for March of your sophomore year, just make sure
those plane tickets are returnable. That’s all I’m saying.
I’m not saying all new boyfriends turn your girl friends into robots that do
nothing but talk about their latest sex-capades. That part is interesting at
least. Oh so he pants like a sheep dog? He whimpers like a baby? His jizz shot
belongs in the Guinness Book of World Records? …Wait so that was what
hardened on my picture frame ON MY SIDE OF THE ROOM?!?!
Look around. We are in the middle of a sexual revolution. With today’s
technology, dorm room escapades weren’t anything like they were six years ago
when I started college, back in the good ol’ days when men would only use the
computer to invite the ladies over via AIM and
to download free porn. You may think that not much has changed since then,
but I don’t recall six years ago students having the technological capability to
create full-length homemade “adult only videos” off their comps. Because nothing
is more awkward than checking your email from your roommate’s computer and
accidentally discovering pictures of her boyfriend with a feather boa wrapped
around his privates. Suddenly his balls on your computer chair pale in
comparison.
