As I walked along the path to my twelfth class of the day, Being “Cool” 100, I noticed something: the leaves are changing. In other words, coat season will soon be here, and we Exonians need no longer worry whether our shirts are tucked in or if our ties are wrinkled. Before we cover up, however, I would like to address an issue that most girls on campus feel strongly about: Exonian boys’ general sexual incompetence. I can tell they long for coat weather, so that they no longer have to pretend to be interested in our bodies. In winter, to their relief, they need not be subjected to a piece of skin, carelessly exposed by an increasingly – to their horror – lax dress code. I find myself unable to don a skirt any shorter than mid-calf or even a shirt with short sleeves or a scoop-neck because of the effects I know these items would have our boys. First, they cringe, and then squirm with disgust, until they are unable to bear it and quickly dismiss themselves from your presence or politely cough and point to our exposed skin as if to say “remember to cover up your ankles next time.” It is unjust that Exonian girls must feel so stifled without even a dress code prohibiting these items of clothing. We need to wear revealing clothes! How can we utilize our “feminine wiles” or shroud ourselves in the “feminine mystique” if the boys here won’t let us even be feminine? How will I ever get an 11 in a class if I can’t seduce my teacher? Boys – objectify us, please! Sexually harass us, make crude jokes about us, force yourselves into our rooms, grind with us without asking, please, just act like normal boys! We need it, and we need you to. Second, boys here simply don’t respond to sexual cues. My friends and I constantly flirt excessively with boys to no avail. No matter how much you stroke their inner thigh, how hard you laugh at even their worst jokes, or compliment their strong biceps, they simply don’t respond. They often even shrink from my touch, as if they are either confused or simply disgusted with what we want from them. I will use a true story to illustrate boys’ inability to detect even the largest social cues from girls. The other day I was sitting at a Harkness table discussing an interesting math problem with a boy; let’s call him Jack. Well, Jack and I were sitting with our knees rubbing and our calculators connected when I asked him to come back to my room. He smiled and said, “No thanks, I’m pretty comfortable here. Anyway, this math homework is really interesting and I wouldn’t want to leave it for a second!” What a dreamboat. I can’t stand leaving math homework unfinished either. Anyway, I then decided to try to get closer to Jack to see if he would pick up on my cues. So, I moved onto his lap. Though he looked a bit startled at first, he almost immediately began smiling and said, “Great idea! Now I can see your calculator screen too!” Even when I began to stroke his cheek and gaze hungrily at his Exeter-red lips, he failed to respond. Needless to say, I gave up after I tried to kiss him and he pushed me away because I was blocking the calculator screen. Because of these boys like Jack, we girls must grow more sexually repressed by day. I haven’t kissed a boy for approximately 35,040 hours and 13 – no 14 – seconds. I haven’t even made physical contact with one since I was a little Prep and Rex Pression ran into me at 10:13 a.m. before my English class. Why won’t boys here touch us? Why won’t boys here touch me? I don’t think I’ll last much longer. I need testosterone. It’s just been so long and no one here understands. So please, please if you’re reading this and are lonely or curious or even just the slightest bit interested, and would maybe want to meet up to hold hands for a few hours or exchange pecks on the cheek even, then call 6139. I’ll be waiting.
