Freshman Year: Twin. XL.
Senior Year: Plush full or queen-sized bed.
Freshman Year: You have to awkwardly ask your antisocial roommate when she’ll be home, or (fingers crossed) if she can sleep somewhere else tonight.
Senior Year: Your roommates are your best friends. Not only do they respect that you’re getting laid, they’ll probably barge in to say hi and hang out, too.
Freshman Year: You got nervous that the people on your floor could hear you.
Senior Year: I will scream about this from the top of the building.
Freshman Year: You’re hoping to God he hasn’t hooked up with someone else in your sorority, especially an older girl.
Senior Year: He’s probably hooked up with half your sorority, because making out is like shaking hands in the Greek community. YOLO.
Freshman Year: He said his roommate would be gone. By “gone,” he meant “passed the fuck out in his bed still fully dressed with the lights on.” Not so comfortable with this.
Senior Year: I mean, we don’t need a bedroom to have sex. You have a bathroom, don’t you?
Freshman Year: I’ve been stalking this guy on Facebook for, like, a week now. He’s super cute, I know he’s a political science major, and he’s from New York.
Senior Year: What was his name again?
Freshman Year: Oh, my God. Do I tell him to wear a condom? Will he know to wear a condom? This is so awkward.
Senior Year: Pull out your bag of tricks and let him pick his poison.
Freshman Year: Do we cuddle after? Do I ask him to leave? Do I leave? What is the protocol, here?
Senior Year: If it was good, hell yes we’ll hang out–and we’ll probably do it again tomorrow morning. If it was bad, you dap him up, say thanks for the good time, and head out since you know your bestie is already downstairs ready to rescue you.
Freshman Year (Morning After): Oh, my God, this is so embarrassing. Why did I do this? This was so dumb. What if someone finds out this happened? I need to get out of here.
Senior Year (Morning After): Welp. Another one in the books.
Nice Move527
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