Eleven girls sat in a hotel room playing drinking games (because hotel rooms are both cheaper than bars and void of shady guys who think Duke is a community college). Despite the fact it was 8 p.m., the gaggle of girls already had exhausted the host of usual drinking games and eight handles. Never-have-I-ever had degenerated into "never have I ever been bored with this game but still played it because I want to get drunk," and at that point no one was coordinated enough to play shoulders without putting someone's eye out (or at least smudging their mascara).
So they played a new game: Incest. "It works like this," Daisy explained, waving a too-full coconut rum and coke. "I say the name of someone I've hooked up with. Everyone who has hooked up with that person drinks, and then one of the people who drinks says the name of a guy they have hooked up with, and so on."
"Hookup as in hookup or hookup as in kiss?" Rachel asked. A good question, as it clearly drastically changes the numbers (think dance floor make-outs; there were several kissing whores in the room).
"Kiss, which in theory should include hookups too," Daisy giggled. "Okay, I'll start. Rob Dickens."
Rob Dickens was one of those special guys with whom seemingly everyone had hooked up and about whom no one gets too attached or possessive (for the former quality). Rob was precisely the type of guy who makes this drinking game work and who allows Duke to be the incestuous cesspool that it is. Predictably, six girls drank.
Every group of friends has a Rob. Some of the friends have dated him, some only made out with him to the tune of "Toxic" at Parizade's, and some give him their highest approval rating when a friend is going through a dry spell and is on the prowl. But no one gets too attached to him or hurt when he moves on.
Throughout the game, there were many collective groans and laughs. ("You too? Oh, I'm sorry. I should have warned you." and "Goes to show the power of beer.") Guys fell into one of three categories: the Robs; the guys who girls had once had a thing for but for whom it would be ridiculous to still call dibs on; and the guys girls still cared about who were touchy subjects.
After much visual hesitation, Andi finally spoke up. "Okay, fine, I want to know. Has anyone hooked up with him?" For most of the girls in the room, the name was a given, but the girls who were less close to Andi asked for his name. "Court Easterlen." Her ex-boyfriend, of course. The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife as everyone looked around to see if anyone drank.
Just one.
"Three years ago! Before you were even together! You know about that!" Olivia immediately interjected to dispel the accusing stares.
"Yes, yes. That's fine. It all is fine," Andi said. "I was just curious...."
Everyone has that person (or two, or eight in the cases of some crazy possessive people) who must be off-limits to their friends. Andi's close friends clearly could not have pursued Court without jeering equivalent to the full force of the Cameron Crazies' booing against UNC.
But who does "dibs" calling apply to? Everyone is someone's ex or obsession, but that does not mean that person alone should be able to date you (thank god). And more often than not, because you tend to be in the same social circles as the people you date, you likely know an ex and/or stalker of anyone you would be interested in. At Duke it would be a numerical impossibility to only hookup with people who had never had any relationship of any kind with anyone you know. We are a giant web of Six Degrees of Rob Dickens, after all.
Anne was grappling with this dilemma. She was interested in Lance, who had recently exited a relationship with Sami (play Days of Our Lives theme song here). Several of Anne's friends were friends with Sami, but Anne knew her less well than she knew her accounting text (so not well at all). From their mutual friends, Anne knew Sami still liked Lance, and for the award-winningly sensitive Anne, this produced a dilemma.
"I feel terrible," Anne said, stirring her straw around in her margarita. "Sami sounds like a wonderful person, and I don't want to hurt her."
"But you don't know her," Sally reassured Anne. "I couldn't hook up with Lance, because I am friends with Sami, but I assure you, it would be fine if you did. Besides, how would you like it if no one hooked up with you because Allen still cares about you?"
Point made. Only one's close friends can be expected (with penalty of death and/or taking orgo) to respect one's dibs. Moreover, one must not go dib crazy and call dibs on more than two or three people (general rule of thumb: the ex you loved, the crush you have always been obsessed with, and the person you are currently dating--the last being common courtesy). Duke has at least four eligible bachelors, so that still leaves one for your friends. Whitney Beckett is a Trinity senior. Her column appears every other Friday.
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