If love is a battlefield, then there is no better war zone than our beloved Green Key. This past Sunday, the warpath could be seen across campus, in trails of broken glass, crumpled beer cans and condom wrappers. The casualty count is high: a cell phone drowned in gorf, a D-card submerged under a mountain of breadsticks and EBAs marinara sauce, fallen soldiers littering fraternity couches and rugs. Around 2 p.m., the few straggling survivors trudge back to the home front, the defeated march of a Greek army still shamefully donning togas from three nights prior.
"How was your Green Key?" we ask, already anticipating a deflated shrug and "I don't remember." If one were to conduct a campus-wide poll, I would predict that more dance floor make-outs and weekend-long trysts happen during Green Key then any other weekend of the year. So what is it exactly about our most self-indulgent weekend that makes romance so probable? While a combination of alcohol and hormones may seem like the obvious source, I believe there is another, slightly less conspicuous culprit. This culprit can usually be found lurking in dark, shady corners of basements, preying on unsuspecting under-aged females and telling nostalgic tales from their glory days. They're everywhere, binging on pig carcass, rocking out to "The Band" and just as socially inept as your average Dartmouth undergrad.
The number one of source of Green Key romance is, of course, the sketchy alum. Ladies take note, male alums are one of the most untapped and underrated resources at Dartmouth. Sure they may be balder, fatter, and more insecure than in their '99 composite picture, but isn't desperation rather endearing? Maybe you missed your opportunity this year, but play your cards right, stay relatively conscious, and chances are that next year you may score your very own alum fling.
If you've ever witnessed a feeding frenzy of ravenous piranhas on a piece of live, writhing meat, you may have already had a pretty good idea of what to expect from alums during Green Key. Starved on a strict diet of 80-hour work weeks, non-consensual celibacy, and their mother's incessant nagging to "settle down," most set off to prove that the "real world" has not quite emasculated their inner fratboy. As a result, the sketchy alum is often excessively loud, misogynistic and will stop at nothing to prove his worth on the pong table. Resist the temptation to play pong, however, as the tolerance of Frank-the-tank has most likely been diminished to that of Alice the anemic eight-year-old girl, and any competitive drinking game may serve as a recipe for disaster.
Also, remember that the typical alum is extremely socially awkward and very insecure. Avoid asking questions about his age, his fiancee, his children or his grandchildren, as it may cause him to become increasingly anxious. Also be especially wary to discuss his career, or lack thereof, unless you want sketchy alum to retreat as rapidly as his hairline. Instead, suggest he serenade you with nostalgic fraternity stories from the days of yore and brush up on your own Dartmouth history trivia. In addition to basking in their glory days, alums also take great delight in showing off the contents of their wallet. If and when the conversation runs dry, ask if he'd be interested in discussing his monthly bank statement.
My final tip to a successful alum fling is to exercise extreme caution. While he ostensibly "just wants to make out," these are not at all his intentions. The sketchy alum is, in reality, looking for a wife. Or, at the very least, an excuse to visit Dartmouth every weekend. Do you really want to have to tell your grandkids you met their grandfather during Green Key? I didn't think so.
Sandra is a staff writer for The Mirror.
