I think I speak for many finance-averse Yalies when I say that I can’t shake the nagging feeling that the folks over at 55 Whitney Avenue are letting me down. Are there really only 24 jobs this summer not on Wall Street? And are thirteen of those jobs really in Zambia? There must be something out there — hidden in a secret place even further from TD.

It turns out I was right, because the best summer jobs aren’t on eRecruiting at all, but on Craigslist. And most of them don’t even require ECON 115! Lo, before my eyes, the possibilities dance: I could be a GO-GO DANCER/ENTERTAINER!!! I could be a sales rep for a corset boutique! Indeed, I am a **lady**, and the world is my oyster.

Were I in Philadelphia for the summer, I surely would jump at one enterprising mother’s recent posting. She writes:

This is going to sound strange, but my son is a senior in High School [sic] and I want to help him. He’s 18 and will go away to Harvard in the fall.

But lest you think our Cambridge-bound comrade only wants linear algebra prep, read on:

…I’m sure he’s a virgin. I want to find a cute young girl to date him and turn him from high school nerd to cool college kid.

Yes, mommy dearest wants you to carry her wayward son onward — whatever that means. Because while little Timmy is still a chaste young thing now, your mission — should you choose to accept it — is to spend the summer schooling him between the sheets. And UCS needs more education positions (Teach for America is so first-term Obama), so I’m going to forward this to them right now. Maybe you could get a stipend or something.

On a more serious note, this story’s been picked up by a lot of outlets — Gawker, HuffPo and the Daily Caller among them. Many of the blogs and their commenters have mocked (the likely fictional) Harvard Timmy, deeming him little more than a “virgin who can’t drive,” as if (get it? As if?) a lack of sexual experience and vehicular mobility are the ticket to uncoolness. But that’s way harsh. At its core, the sex-positivity we so dearly value on Yale’s campus is all about being cool with the sexual choices (or lack thereof) being made around us, so long as they’re made with consent. Which means that if true love wants to wait, let it loiter. As the aphorism goes, good things come to those who wait for organic sexual encounters and do not dally with their mother’s prostitute.

And if no fish bite mommy’s hook, who knows? The Game is on our turf next year, and we have one thing those Cambridge kids don’t: Toad’s.