Quickly coming to an end

Sex on Tuesday

Almost four years and seven semesters ago, I graduated from high school and embarked on a journey I like to call “the college sex life.” Alas, a couple of weeks ago I realized that I only have a semester of it left. Panic. What am I going to do once I graduate and am released into the grown-up world of dating and screwing the opposite sex?!

Now, I know most of you ladies (and perhaps some gentlemen) are thinking, “Gosh, I can’t wait to get away from these immature college dudes and date real men (or women)!” And yes, you are right, many of them still act like barely pubescent creatures. But immaturity aside, there is much to be missed about the college sex life and much to be concerned about in the big bad world out there.

For one, out there, you can’t “background check” people the way you can in this social bubble we like to call “college.” You know how, when Joe McFratty is fetching you some chaser for a plastic vodka, you check with your friend Suzy Sororisis to see if Joe really is single and no crazy girl will attack you if you get with him? Well, you can’t really do that anymore once you leave the safety of college. Let me illustrate.

A few weeks ago, while sipping on my free cosmo during the after-party of a work event in the city, one of the photographers from the event approached me and began to converse with me. He was nice, decently attractive, interesting (anyone who can talk about the comedy of Republican politicians has my attention) and was definitely giving me the “I-can’t-wait-to-see-you-naked” vibe.

Although I only let him walk me to the BART station after the party because I could barely stand or keep my eyes open, I was definitely excited that a real grown-up was interested in me.

Well, until the next day.

The following morning, while getting my daily fix of Facebook (what has our generation come to?), I decided to run his name through the social network and see what I could find. After all, it’s the only option I have to make sure he’s not a serial killer or alien.

So, what did I find? Well, based on our lengthy conversation from the night before, I already figured that he must be in his late 20s at least. However, I was not prepared for what I found.

He has a child. A child?!

Hold up. I barely got out of my teens a couple of years ago and am now entering a world of being involved with guys who have children? This is so scary. I can’t deal with this. All right, never talking to this dude again, and thank goodness I get another semester of child-free 21-year-olds.

Now the panic continues — what else will be taken away from me once I leave this plush land of college sexcapades? Proximity will! This semester, I have the privilege of living in a prime real estate location, which, along with being close to my classes and friends, means that all of my fuck buddies are now within a two-block radius of me. Talk about living the life.

Oh, did I just get a sudden urge to get naked and frisky? No problem — I just need to shoot a little text and schedule a rendezvous for later that day (or hour). Long day making me yearn for a little cuddling session and sleepy-time in someone’s arms? Just as easily taken care of.

Once I graduate and move away, strolling to a quickie will turn into driving to a quickie. Driving, I say! Gone will be days of short drunken walks to the door of sexual fulfillment. Time of day or night, length of drive, willingness to pay for a cab if drunk, likelihood of still being horny after the journey and many other problematic factors will have to be considered — definitely not the easy-breezy situation I have now.

And what of campus hookups? They will, maybe, turn into office hookups. After all, the frat bros and hipster coffee drinkers of today will be the bankers and consultants of tomorrow — plenty of volunteers for a little action in the copy room. While it does sound potentially exciting, I doubt it will be the same.

No more quickies at Main Stacks, the dorms, the 50-yard line, study rooms, random buildings on campus, chapter rooms, roof decks, the Campanile, etc. I suppose I should have as many of those as possible during the next four months.

But I guess this is inevitable.  With no desire to be Van Wilder, college sex will have to come to an end for me, and my inner optimist will have to make the best of it. But I’m sure there will still be a bit of nostalgia left in me for those college days during which, at two in the morning, I could get my quick fix with the cutie from across the street and have a smirk on my face when I see him in class the next day.