Class of 2017 Surprised by Air of Sexual Promise

By Clay Olsen

Aug. 2, 2013

Most long-time inmates at the University of Chicago know that the campus and its environs are boiling cauldrons of sin, a few well-timed winks and broken condoms away from more unplanned pregnancies than a small town in Texas. Indeed, various sexual shenanigans abound in this isolated corner of the Windy City—but you wouldn’t know it if you talked only to the Class of 2017. These callow youths have been caught completely unawares by UChicago’s beguiling air of sexual promise. Many of them professed feelings of shock at the barest possibility of physical intimacy with their preferred gender or genders.

Luis Diaz is typical of these incredulous students. An Arizona native and prospective Economics major who describes himself as “old enough to party,” Diaz resigned himself to four years of celibacy when he mailed his enrollment deposit to James Nondorf. He was amazed to discover that many Chicago gals would not only talk to him, but even briefly touch him in a way that, he said, suggested they desired a smidgeon of naked time. “Honestly, I thought I’d have to wait until I was rich to have meaningless sex with gorgeous women, but now I’m less certain,” Diaz said. “This one girl laughed at one of my jokes!” He smiled nervously. “Do you think she wants to meet Lil’ Luis? I didn’t exactly plan for this.”

Helen Harris echoed Diaz’s sentiments. When she came to Chicago, Harris assumed that O-Week would be a whirlwind of platonic introductions that would allow her to settle into campus life before meeting with her advisor to discuss her “four-year plan.” Instead, she found her expectations upended by interest from the young men of the Class of 2017. As it turns out, Harris’ social timetable may need to move up a bit. “I thought I’d have four years of monastic study, followed by a tumultuous quarter-life crisis,” Harris said. “Now, I have to contend with America’s puritanical double standards about sex and relationships, manage potential suitors, and decide when or even if I want to have sex…all while dealing with academics! Jesus Christ, what kind of school is this?”

When questioned by the Dealer, University president Bobby Zimmer seemed sanguine about the rising first-years’ shock. “Everything usually balances out after Fall Quarter. I’d say a third of our students become well-adjusted individuals, another third end up with loads of unresolved issues, and the final third just masturbate compulsively and stay in their rooms.” When asked if the University planned on managing students’ expectations to avoid such culture shock-induced mental health dilemmas, Zimmer chuckled: “I fucking doubt it, pal.”

Helen Harris and Luis Diaz have their own ideas about managing their newfound erotic capital. “I’ll do this sex thing in stages by quarter,” Diaz says. “After O-Week, I’ll get drunk a lot and have sex with as many women as possible. Winter, I’m thinking I’ll regret my decisions and, wondering what I’m doing with my life, try to have more sober, meaningful relationships. For Spring Quarter, I’m not sure. It’s a toss-up between getting a girlfriend and crying myself to sleep every night.”

Helen Harris was less definitive. “I’ll probably just make out with people, maybe compromise with a BJ every once in a while.” She shrugged. “I’ll definitely feel really guilty about it afterward, though.”