Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Student unions

OK, who has stories about extracurricural cuddling in odd places on campus (not just the one I write about)? I know there must be some good bits of tid about canoodling under the bleachers or a little exchange of fluids in some chemistry lab. Do tell, do tell.

The closest I came to sex on school property in recent years was the time I ran into one of my grad school profs outside the student union on a Saturday morning. I'm not sure he meant to do it, but instead of reaching out to shake my hand to say howdy, he grabbed my right boob and gave it a quick squeeze. Way to cop a feel, doc.

Back in my college days -- when we entertained ourselves on weekends by weaving lyrics of Leonard Cohen songs into macrame wall hangings -- they had just eliminated the curfew from the dorms. I had a slutty roommate for a while who dragged in a series of guys who looked like rejects from the Spahn Ranch. My suitemate took a bus to the army base on Friday nights to meet horny soldiers about to be shipped to Vietnam. Me? Other than a few torrid makeouts with very cute and rather hairy young actors in the scene shop at the theater (I was a drama major... don't you laugh now), I didn't get much action till later. College boys were just so... unevolved.

I do remember one rather dishy undergrad named David that I had a huge crush on after he played Tony in West Side Story. What a performance. He sang and danced like a pro and swooped Maria up in this gorgeous lift during the "One Hand, One Heart" number. David had curly blond hair, a sexy overbite and eyes the color of acid-washed Jordache jeans. He barely knew I existed, so when I followed him all over campus... OK, stalking is what we call it now. I figured out his class schedule and always managed to be standing outside Northrup Hall when he was headed to the Refectory (or the "Rat Factory") for lunch and dinner. I vaguely remember leaving a gooey Valentine tucked under the windshield of his apple red Pacer. I didn't even sign it. (I had to evolve, too... and stop acting like Pippi Longstocking.)

A few years ago I Googled him to see if he'd fulfilled his dream of stardom. He has his own website. He's a plastic surgeon in Cincinnati. I'll bet he does a gorgeous lift.

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