By staff writer Simonne Cullen
March 25, 2007
There is a disease that lurks close to your campus. It develops over time and manifests itself in your dorm, possibly even in your own bedroom. It remains dormant until one day your class gets cancelled. You enter your room eagerly to see if anyone has posted on your wall in the twenty minutes you’ve been gone, and there is your
roommate and her new boyfriend in a position that defies every
law of gravity. It is in that moment that you discover what exactly goes on in your room when you’re not there: total violation of your computer chair. How can
you sit there ever again knowing your roomie’s boyfriend’s warm balls were rubbing up all over the cushion?
You’ve experienced a minor side effect of what is known as “The New Boyfriend Syndrome.” Symptoms include: Loss of bedroom
for long periods of time, late night phone calls, awkward sleepovers with the wildebeest snoring, the smell of boy-sweat on your clothes, the smell of used condom invading
the once clean air, and in some super severe cases, your Stoli and Bacardi in your fridge being replaced with ice cold Natural Ice Lager. The only known cure is moving out
or… homicide.
It’s so funny how girls change in the first two months they have a new man in their lives. It’s the disappearance of them
that’s the most disconcerting. For long stretches of time you don’t see your girl friend and when she does show up she’s a cyclone of emotion that ranges
from slightly windy to utter
devastation. Seriously, it’s either, “James is having lunch with his lab group today so I wasn’t invited,” or, “I think that right now at
this very moment if I told James I loved him he’d say it back.” And all you want to say to her is, “Omigod! Alert the police and the news, we can call
off the search party! The prodigal friend has come home! Halleluiah! Hallelujah!”
“He whimpers like a baby? His jizz shot belongs in the Guinness Book of World Records?”
It doesn’t even matter that he’s a nice guy or “greater than any guy she’s ever dated”; the minute he takes
your spot on her MySpace top eight, there’s been a power switch in your friendship, and the power switch’s name is Bob.
The funniest part about your girlfriend being in a new relationship is listening to her “future plans” with him. They’ve
been dating for one month and already they’re planning where they’re going on Spring Break—the following year. I’m not the biggest romantic
optimist in the world, but when it’s December and you’re a freshman planning a Spring Break trip for March of your sophomore year, just make sure those plane
tickets are returnable. That’s all I’m saying.
I’m not saying all new boyfriends turn your girl friends into robots that do nothing but talk about their latest sex-capades. That part
is interesting at least. Oh so he pants like a sheep dog? He whimpers like a baby? His jizz shot belongs in the Guinness Book of World Records? …Wait so that
was what hardened on my picture frame ON MY SIDE OF THE ROOM?!?!
Look around. We are in the middle of a sexual revolution. With today’s technology, dorm room escapades weren’t anything like they
were six years ago when I started college, back in the good ol’ days when men would only use the computer to invite the ladies over via AIM and to download free porn. You may think that not much has changed
since then, but I don’t recall six years ago students having the technological capability to create full-length homemade “adult only videos” off their
comps. Because nothing is more awkward than checking your email from your roommate’s computer and accidentally discovering pictures of her boyfriend with a feather
boa wrapped around his privates. Suddenly his balls on your computer chair pale in comparison.