To say that frat guys don’t have the best reputation is like saying that that I only kinda like Diet Coke. From movies to TV shows to their very own indiscretions (like the most recent events at Yale), on a scale of douchebaggery, they fall somewhere between Spencer Pratt and Tiger Woods.

But is that a fair assessment or have we been judging these guys wrong all along? Could there be an unfair stigma against fraternity boys? It’s hard to tell when you’re looking in from the outside, so we thought we’d ask the people who know best: a group of sorority women.

Unlike most college students whose only interaction with frat stars is at a Pimps and Hos party, sorority women know these men on a deeper level. So what do they have to say about frat guys? Read More »

You waited in the line outside the party hoping the 3 frat guys with low self-esteem and big muscles manning the door would notice your short skirt/cleavage combo and let you inside. Once you got the point and nod from d-bag #1, you breeze past the fortress gate (a card table littered with empty beer cans) and dance your way (litarally) into the overcrowded party.

A wave of humid, stale air hits you the minute you step inside. You feel your hair instantly frizzing up. But the room is dark and every girl in there is suffering from the frizzies, so you pull it back, grab a few cans of (crappy) beer from yet another muscley frat boy and get your party on.

You’re dancing, sweating, having a good time when it hits you: you have to pee. And not just a little bit. A lot a bit.
As in, one more bump and grind and it will be dripping down your leg. You grab your friend, pull her close and scream into her ear, “BATHROOM!??” The music is so loud, though, she can’t hear you.

“WHAT?!” She mouths as she gets low, low, low, with a guy with giant pit stains. You try screaming again, but it’s no use. So you break out the gestures, pointing to your bladder then pointing in the direction of the stairs. She finally gets it, leaves her perspiring prince behind and joins you in the hunt for a clean-ish bathroom.

You climb the stairs, passing couples making out along the way. As you near the top you see a long string of girls lining the hallway. Obviously, this is the line for the bathroom. And obviously, you have no choice but to wait in it (because, unlike those boys, you can’t just head outside and empty your bladder into a bush). Read More »