by Greek Life Observations
The Invitation
My hallmate invited me to frat party with enthusiasm suggesting this was incredible honor rather than invitation to experience questionable life choices in basement full of strangers. I went because I’m freshman trying to have college experience, whatever that means. The party was exactly what I expected: too many people in too small space, music too loud for conversation, floor sticky with substances I chose not to identify. Everyone was shouting at each other pretending this was fun. Maybe it was fun. Maybe I’m broken. Maybe frat parties aren’t designed for Literature majors who prefer quiet sarcasm to loud chaos.
The Social Dynamics
Frat guys wear same outfit: khaki shorts regardless of temperature, branded t-shirt, baseball cap. They travel in packs and perform masculinity like it’s competitive sport. The women at party have divided into two categories: those aggressively pursuing frat guys and those aggressively avoiding them. I’m in second category, hiding in corner texting my roommate asking when I can leave without seeming rude. According to social analysis, party culture reveals power dynamics. Frat parties reveal that power dynamics are terrible and nobody should have this much power over basement access.
The Escape Attempt
I tried leaving after thirty minutes. The door was blocked by people making out with desperation suggesting they’d just met five minutes ago. I retreated back to my corner and resumed texting. A frat guy approached asking what my major was. I said Literature. He said that’s cool and immediately left. This was best interaction of my night. At least it was honest. We both knew we had nothing to discuss. No pretense of connection. Just mutual acknowledgment of incompatibility.
The Morning After Analysis
The next day, everyone discussed the party like it was transformative experience. I contributed nothing to these conversations because my experience was standing in corner for ninety minutes counting ceiling tiles and contemplating existence. Reductress headline would read: Woman Attends Party, Spends Entire Time Thinking About Leaving Party. That was me. I am satire made flesh. I’ve accepted this about myself. Next time someone invites me to frat party, I’m staying home with book. That’s my college experience and I’m fine with it.
