As an old balls upperclassman, the expiration date on the social acceptability of me attending frat parties is fast approaching. I am utterly dismayed to say the least, but that means squeaking into as many IFC functions as humanly possibly within these next four months. The semester system has me alone at home, wishing away the last week of break, so in a last ditch-effort to have fun, I decided to take my talents to my local college’s fraternity party last night.
After about twenty minutes of exchanging “WTF?” glances with my friends, we decided to bounce. As I lamented about the lameness of the party, my friend interrupted saying, “What even makes a frat party not lame?” Which begs the question: Are not all frat parties just a throng of sloshed and sweaty collegians gyrating to the seemingly same playlist? How are some fun and some not? Enthralling questions to which I, after serious contemplation, have found the answers. A whole slew of factors come into play when determining whether a frat party is gonna be hopping or flopping.
First off, location. My favorite fraternity is directly next to a Taco Bell and I know not all of you can be so fortunate, so I’ll give some further insight about location and the legitimacy of parties. Here’s a hint: If you don’t want to walk to that frat in the middle of freakin’ Siberia, neither do the girls down the hall, or the girls in that sorority, or literally anyone else. Stick to the frats close by or on campus for a guaranteed better time. “But wouldn’t I want to go to a party without that many girls?” you ask. Well, the answer is a no, which leads me into my next point.
Ratio. I don’t think I need to explain why a frat party with more girls than guys is a hard freakin’ pass, but arriving to a sausage fest is equally miserable. It can go one of two ways. First scenario: without even so much as a chance to scope out the scene with your squad, you’re instantly bombarded by guys from all angles, swarmed by an army of Oxfords with pre-mixed drinks in tow. Let me tell you, there’s a reason we have rules against hot boxing. It’s horrible. Second scenario: your small traces of estrogen go unnoticed and they all continue to play video games with their hands down their pants as you awkwardly sip a drink with your pals in the corner. The right balance is essential.
However, sometimes, horrifyingly enough, you’ll go to a party where there aren’t even drinks for you to sip awkwardly. The next necessity for a bitchin’ fraternity party is good drinks. Burnett’s, Congress, whatever repulsive alcohol the constituents of your school prefer, there best be a lot of it, along with quality mixers. One time I went to a frat and a guy brought me a red cup full of cinnamon vodka and pineapple soda, so you can bet your ass I’m not hurrying back there any time soon. The best type of frats are the frats that designate a pledge to stay sober and mix up drinks for the misses. If, God forbid, you go to a school with dry fraternity houses (like I did last night), chug in your room and say a little prayer.
Last, but certainly not least, the quality of people will always indicate the quality of the party. We all know of that one hot frat that only talks to girls in that one hot sorority. Probably don’t go to their parties. Every college has that one frat that supposedly beats up their pledges during initiation week. Probably don’t expect to find Prince Charming there. Or the frat that is notorious for hard drugs? Probably don’t become a regular. But the one trick to always remember is this: if you come to any party with a quality crew of your own, how bad can your night really be?.