Pining after your FroCo? Dying to get on the orgy panlist? Sick of seeing khakis on men? You’re in luck! Welcome to Sex on the WKND, YDN’s anonymous column dedicated to answering your burning questions about sex, love and anything in between. Obsessing over sex is a Yale tradition as old as the Oldest College Daily itself. This year, we have a love-guru columnist who has done it all — including everyone on the aforementioned orgy panlist — and is ready to share. Whether you have a seminar with a hookup-gone-wrong or accidentally sent a raunchy text to your chemistry study group, Sex on the WKND is ready to help.
Next week, we are running YOUR content. Submit your craziest romantic/date/hookup stories here. Don’t be shy.
My parents are coming to campus this weekend. I have a sex swing chained to the ceiling of my room. It’s a real hassle to take down. How do I hide my private life from my parents when they show up?
-DaddysLittleGirl
My mom knows I write this column. She’s an avid reader. Yeah, I don’t have a regular mom. I have a cool mom.
But not all of us were blessed with the Amy Poehler-George parents of the world. So how do you fill a weekend’s-worth of time with PG activities on a college campus? Luckily, your pros in prose are here to help.
Firstly, when you’re giving your family the renowned Yale tour, avoid the usual sites. You don’t want to run into the people that have seen more of you than your own parents. And they don’t want to see you or Jan and Bob from Cleveland. It is imperative that you keep away from Cross Campus, the Elm and that mixer your sorority is throwing on High Street. Try the TD College Courtyard, Yale West Campus and the Whalley Avenue Stop and Shop instead.
If you employ all necessary evasion tactics and you still see a former hookup approaching on the street, turn to Jan and Bob and passionately recite the history of the building to your left. It’s Yale — there’s a weird historical fact about every building you pass. Here’s a start: Yale was founded in 1701, the residential colleges were built in 1933 and the Grace Hopper dining hall sucks. Even if you failed your tour guide audition, Jan and Bob won’t know the difference.
If you have reason to suspect that your parents will want to see your room, a fair amount of preparation is needed. Get rid of all your alcohol. If your parents are against drinking, they’ll think the nights you spend out until 2 a.m. take place in Bass and not the SigChi basement. If your parents are avid partiers, they will feel sorry for your lame ass and restock your coffers. Tell them to go for the good shit.
When tidying up, don’t try to be too convincing. Drop a pair of boxer briefs on the floor. Keep the banana peel on your desk. Leave your bed covers a little disheveled. If you’re too clean, they’re gonna know you’re hiding something. And there’s no hiding place a Jan with a savior complex can’t find.
Inevitably, while you’re showing your parents your clean-but-not-suspiciously-clean-room, you will run into your suitemates. Limit their contact. Your suitemates know your secrets. Your parents are who they’re supposed to keep your secrets from. It’s a treacherous combination. Let your parents buy them dinner, but don’t let it be a bribe. Unless you have the type of parents that will spring for Union League. In that case, expect a sellout.
As awkward as it is, remember that Family Weekend exists because your parents love you and they want to see you thrive. So swallow your pride — actually, stop swallowing anything — and take down the sex swing. It’ll be risky business as usual on Monday.