7 shots deep and feeling frisky, I made a grand entrance to A Night On College Hill. My stiletto heels were sunk 4 inches deep into the grassy field, but nothing could stop me. Grooving on the dance floor, I lost my inhibitions.
After a recent hookup dry-spell, the vodka sans chaser gave me an extra boost of liquid courage. Suddenly I found myself in the middle of a DFMO with a stranger. It was all fun, games, and no names. As I started to sober up, I made my anonymous escape.
After a pit stop at Andrews for pizza, I couldn’t wait to get back to my room to chug a bottle of water and take some preventative Advil for the hangover I would surely experience the next morning. As I walked down the hall back to my room, someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around to find myself face to face with my DFMO stranger. And then he asked two devastating questions:
- “Wait… do you live here, too?”
- “Also, what’s your name?”
So much for anonymity.
I immediately regretted my alcohol-induced spontaneity. I prided myself on surviving freshman year without succumbing to floorcest, or even dormcest, for that matter. But, alas, I couldn’t remain unscathed forever. Now every time I walk down my hallway for the entire rest of the year, I have to be prepared for awkward eye contact and palpable tension.
I won’t let this one DFMO disaster stop me from DFMOing again. It’s fun to let loose every once in a while with a stranger. But next time I’ll wear my hall on my sleeve.
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