Over the course of many Saturday nights spent at New Haven’s most notorious night spot, I have realized that there is a certain etiquette to that pristine, clean love machine I refer to endearingly as Toad’s,
Toad’s etiquette is not the oxymoron that some students less experienced with the top-hat-wearing frog may assume. In fact, I would actually argue that Toad’s has an unfair reputation for being sweaty (it really just glows), dirty (rustic charm) and skeevy (say what?).
In reality, Toad’s has all the collegiate appeal of Mory’s, minus only the membership, so-so food, and suited-up waiters.
Oh yeah, and minus the clothes.
It is tempting to berate girls for over-utilizing Toad’s as an excuse to make like it’s Halloween and dress as a “Slutty ____[insert noun here].” But the truth is that Yale boys have been waiting all week long to finally take a look at what’s beneath those buttoned-up Polos. But be wary of the hoed-out jerseys that so many of our neighboring schools’ coeds have claimed as their Saturday Night Slutty Staple. In the struggle to spot fellow Yalies as quickly and efficiently as possible, these skanky jerseys are a dead giveaway of non-Eli blood. On the other hand, as a full-fledged Yalie, it is not necessary to sport your Yale Lacrosse jacket throughout the evening when you’re clearly dying of heat underneath all that blue and white pride. We know you’re an athlete. Varsity jackets don’t compensate for bad game on and off the field.
On the topic of athletes, it is also not proper etiquette for pre-frosh recruits to lie in their feeble attempts to pick up Yale girls at Toad’s. When we ask “What college are you in?” and you respond “Yale,” it’s better just to call it a night and ask your host to walk you home and put you to bed.
While fashion faux pas are serious, the most severe etiquette dictum has less to do with what you put on your body and more to do with what you put in it. It is imperative that no student visits the Toad’s terrain in a sober state. It’s not that students can’t have fun without alcohol. Rather, the potential to have fun sober at Toad’s is immediately diminished on the sight of drunken boys peeing (no, it’s not spilled beer) at the bar as they wait for their drinks. Drinks that they’re not buying for you.
If you take heed of my advice and pre-game heavily before Toad’s, be sure to remain lucid enough to leave before they begin locking the doors. Although the last thirty minutes of Toad’s tend to have the night’s best music, I advise all Toad’sers to exit five minutes early. When those lights go on and you can actually see the person you’ve been dancing with for the last half-hour, you’ll want to run all night long instead of shaking it. Don’t worry, AC/DC will understand. They don’t want to see you in the post-Toad’s light either.
To conclude: although it is a commonly held belief that all are granted amnesty upon exiting Toad’s, for every person who’s drunker than you, there’s always someone more sober, too. Someone who will actually remember that it was a middle-aged townie and not that cute freshman in Davenport who you were making out with. And thanks to Drunk.com’s infiltration of Toad’s, your “If I don’t remember it, it didn’t happen” line no longer applies.
Some final Toad’s etiquette mantras to follow:
1) Do not be one of those people who “refuse to go to Toad’s.” The comment is casually dropped one day, and before you know it, the rest of your Yale social career is dictated by this ambivalent declaration against a club you never actually frequented. There are other ways to impress that cute indie-esque boy in your English class.
2) Making out on the dance floor of Toad’s, although not particularly admirable, is not reprehensible either. Making out on the dance floor of Toad’s while highlighted on the Booty Cam is.
3) Just because you go to Yale does not give you permission to start a fight with every Quinnipiac kid you see. Chances are, they can kick your ass. And they’ll most likely dirty your Lacoste, too.
Dana Schuster denies making out with a gas-station attendant named Jimbo on the Toad’s dance floor, but scene has the Booty Cam to prove it.