This text obscured by ancient, eldritch, sinister CLI magic.At some point in eighth week, with clothes strewn across my half-empty suitcase and my HUM paper nowhere near finished, I came across this allegedly fun fact on the Wikipedia page of the College: nearly 50 percent of UChicago students end up marrying each other. I call bullshit. One hundred percent of the UChicago students I know (all of whom are first-years) are unmarried — and what’s more, I’m single. If they want to keep that number high, the University of Chicago has a moral duty to change the script on my love life.
When I applied to the University of Chicago, I was sold on the idea of an academic community of curious people like me looking to enjoy the life of the mind. The admissions office filled their marketing materials with photographs of people far more attractive than the average UChicago student. We were told there would be fun — a clear euphemism if I ever heard one. The implication was clear: even nerds like me could get laid at UChicago. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a legally enforceable contract. The University owes me a girlfriend, preferably a cute one, or I’ll sue for false advertising. My dad’s a lawyer — he’d do it.
The tough part is it isn’t just me who’s suffering. Single, eligible, affluent, entitled bastards like myself are in no short supply at UChicago. It’s time the university used its considerable resources to follow through on its stated goal to improve the lives of the students it promised love. If only there were some convenient way for UChicago’s legions of single students to quickly and easily find a suitable partner, preferably in a lighthearted, not-so-serious fashion. Someone could even try to implement a survey where data is collected from students to match them with other eligible students who share their interests and needs.
And if the university doesn’t do it, somebody should.
Otherwise, my dad will proceed with the charges. He’s done it before.