The Harsh Cycle of High School Dating

by Thomas Triplet

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With the intersection of newly acquired parental freedom, uncontrollable hormones, and women having larger breasts, high school is a breeding ground for breeding. But how does one navigate this treacherous terrain of mass-produced sperm and childish mind games?

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(from the archives)

Before I rant and rave on this particular subject, I would like to allocate myself within my school, so that you will be able to discern for yourself whether my opinions are too biased to be taken into consideration. I am a junior in high school and, as others would place me, subsumed under the intellectual or “preppy” crowd. However, this definition does not fit me.

My grades are average, by which I mean barely above passing, so to refer to me as scholarly is slightly inappropriate, since true scholars are known for their outstanding academics. My hobbies involve neither dungeons nor dragons, although I do have a predilection for video games. So to say I am a geek is merely slightly better than a scholar. I must reluctantly admit however, that I do not have a girlfriend at this time, which unavoidably swings the pendulum of categorization towards Frodo, Vader and the rest of the geek squad. In short, if you must confine me to one particular group, then call me a geek for that is the closest thing I resemble, as far as specific factions are concerned.

Throughout my high school career, I have noticed that every year the female freshmen’s standards and inhibitions have consistently lowered. Coincidentally, that also means that the length of a skirt shrinks while the amount of skin shown is increased. Now this in itself is not a bad thing at all, but when compacted with the reckless abandon of the upperclassmen, or “morays” as I like to call them, to assert themselves amongst these young individuals, then the ethical standards are abused. Allow me to clarify this point; every year the freshmen seem to be taken under the wings of juniors or seniors. Now this point may not seem to be all that salient as far as high school is concerned, but the idea that an upper level student is stooping to a level a few years beneath himself is immoral to say the least. At no point in an upperclassman’s schooling should he say “Well, I can’t get any here, so I’ll opt for a freshman.” I personally would rather hear, “Well I can’t get any here so I’ll rent a hooker.” At least then he is being honest with himself; instead of wasting his and her time feigning interest when his objective could be more easily accomplished by spending a little money in a venture certain to lead to the desired results.

Obviously a few years difference in a relationship is fine, except when this gap in age is also blockaded by law. I bring this up since the only reason a moray would normally seek out a freshman is to get a “piece” of that freshman. Well, either that or he is unsuccessful in his own age bracket. Now, in the uncommon event that an upperclassman is willing to wait those few guarded years, then he is either very determined or feels a genuine connection that exists above the waist line; in either case, I could applaud that individual.

However, I do not feel that the female freshmen or, from this point on the “chum,” are at all victimized in this dilemma. (I say “chum” simply because to call them “fresh meat” would be a euphemism, since that term would imply a certain sense of innocence - “chum” seems far more appropriate in this context.) The chum knows exactly what they are perpetrating. They absorb the attention while caught in the feeding frenzy without hesitation, skepticism, or even a hint of distaste in regards to what is happening around them. They willingly partake in the exclusion of their male counterparts as well, which is probably why my own freshman year was so devoid of interest. This brings to light another facet of this subject. While the chum are pursued by the morays, the other half is forced to live in segregation, since it’s highly improbable that an upper level female will seek out a lonely little freshman who was ruthlessly left behind by his own age group. Being a freshman in high school is hard enough, but with seniors and juniors looming over their shoulders, the likelihood of having a girlfriend is diminished significantly. It’s unfair; these opportunistic omnivores have cars, jobs, and a supposed maturity which, when coupled with the chum’s inclination to be with older men, is practically like taking candy from a baby. (In some cases, this is not just a manner of speaking.) This leaves the freshman’s hope of getting a girlfriend bleak at best.

I realize that this little spiel is lacking an explanation in regards to the sophomore’s stance in this whole affair. Whatever the reason, I have always felt that my sophomore year was more of a buffer zone than anything. Students in this setting seem to mingle with both upper and lowerclassmen without displacing other students in their attempts to find a mate. Of course, it could also just be that my sophomore year was a bit of a blur with the releases of Halo 2, Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas and some other amazing games, keeping me slightly distracted from the whole girlfriend issue. Maybe I am a geek.

Alas, there is yet another group of individuals who influence this rapid cycle: rumors spread with malicious intent, promises of eternal love broken, pitiful relationships continued while precariously close to heartache, all of which is forgotten within a manner of days. The final cog in this painful yet necessary cycle is known by all. They are the ones you see every day after school, waiting for their friends to end the day and hang out with them. They are the kids who graduated a year or two prior and hope to find some fragment of their youth still in existence within their younger friends. We know them well: very popular when they were in school, but once they graduated and realized that they weren’t going anywhere or doing anything, they desperately tried to maintain their presence within the school system. After all, the chum still need some older men once they've become juniors and seniors themselves. In this metaphorical ocean of mine, they would be the equivalent to a lionfish caught in a fisherman’s net. Once the proud and popular rulers of the ocean, they are now, as the cliché goes, “a fish out of water” and can do nothing but shamelessly plead to be let back in. Personally, I hope they’re still around a few years longer; I’ll need to hire someone to clean my pool.

Why then must the “nice guys” perpetually finish last? The nice guys refuse to let their morals falter and join the rest of the crowd who readily surrender all ethics. Beyond my understanding, young women just don’t respect this quality in men, at least not within the ruthless high school dating ritual. It seems that there is a point in every woman’s life when she realizes that she is sick of being the chum and decides she will no longer deal with the petty problems, plaguing their relationships with the supposed “bad boys” who offer a false sense of danger by driving recklessly, partying all the time, and in general defying common sense. They realize that a significant other who works at a restaurant (McDonald’s™) or any other service related job (Wal-Mart™), just can’t provide the future they once had imagined. In the end, they’ll seek out Poindexters like me who saved their money instead of wasting it on speeding tickets, alcohol and cigarettes. Yet I relish the day one of the chum approaches me in hopes of a relationship, so that I can turn to her with a big smile and hand her an application to become my maid.

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Thomas Triplet, after spending years and years reading everything that Charles Dickens had ever written, is deeply devastated that there isn’t a character named after him. Odds are this profound disaster will cause Thomas to take his frustration out on 6-to-10 of his worst “bitches”, who will be walking comically bow-legged for the next week.