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Love Among the Ruins

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Written by Zoe Manoukian

Relationship turmoil is running rampant. Sophomores have abandoned, nay, liberated themselves from their freshman year relationships. Freshmen have liberated themselves from, nay, abandoned, hopes of maintaining relations with the cute boys in their orientation groups. In an ethnographic pursuit, I have become an insider of a microcosm of recently single, heterosexual underclassmen dubbed Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. These women come from drastically different romantic tumult but share one common agenda: to win.

One spandex clad member donned a Wet Floor sign across her chest during our conversation.

“Last year I would have found the concept of an ‘anything but clothes’ party to be juvenile and objectifying, but ever since my Break Up, I see this as an opportunity to show my idiot ex that I am a new and better person! I mean, look at me. Last year, I only wore turtlenecks.”

One freshman exhibited a pragmatic approach to being ghosted by an aries from her INQ 110.

“I cried a little bit when I found out that [redacted] was taking another girl from Restorative Justice to a party on Saturday. But tears won’t get you anywhere. Natty, winged eyeliner, sloppy dancing, and maintaining a consistent five foot radius will.”

Ringleader Billy Shears explains, “some of us pick one frat. Some of us leave our marks around all six fraternities and even some underground sororities. Some of us lean into the house party culture and strike things up with the first boy to bum a cig. Any girl is welcome as long as she demonstrates desirability among men and an eye for unnecessary vengeance.”

A witness expressed annoyance with what she sees as a callow and unsustainable attitude. “I just came here tonight to drink and have a good time. I’m afraid though that I am surrounded by a series of unhealthy mindsets that detract from reaping the fruits of a carefree and positive vibes environment,” she laments, staring longingly into a bong. “Why can’t we just play nice?”