Dear readers, welcome back! Or simply welcome for the new people!
I sure did miss you during my brief hiatus in my columnist retreat, otherwise known as summer. But fear not, as I am back. And a new school year usually means new opportunities, new people and well, new hook-ups!
Sadly that is not my fate anymore, my options are actually dwindling all around me. I reached the point in my Cornell life cycle when, well, I got “old.”
I realized my predicament when I first landed in Ithaca this school year. Feeling the excitement of coming back I couldn’t help myself, my fingers had already reached for the Grindr icon among my apps. And for the first time since I got off the grip of my parents when moving in I was… underwhelmed?
My grid was staring back at me full of a combination of “new herel” “19 college,” “twink freshman.” I was mortified. What was worse, when I found the profiles that were up to my standards — my age and older — I was terrorized by flashbacks of my past couple years navigating the community on campus. Ghosted talking stages, failed first dates, borderline online stalkers who have all accompanied me through the college journey.
Disturbed by the dystopian reality around me I finally struck gold. Tall, handsome and — surprisingly — not a previous hook-up. I did not even match with him on another dating app before. So I bit, we met up, one thing led to another… and what’s a good SOT column without some sex.
After my pleasant evening with ‘Rowan’ I went to my first couple classes. His face seemed familiar to me in the aftermath, but I had no idea where from. Until I sat down for one of my seminars and there he was… his ex. You might remember a column I wrote about a year and a half ago, well, Andrew had gotten a boyfriend after our awkward encounter. I was unaware of their breakup but to be honest I never paid too much attention to his posts showing Rowan off.
So I put two and two together after an uncomfortable look at his face. I walked in and did not say a word. I did not want to face this man. I mean having a failed hook-up is awkward as is, I don’t want to add “I’m sorry I rode your ex last night, I forgot you guys dated” to the list of things he will remember me by.
This rocky start — except for Rowan, we actually have a healthy schedule cracking each other — made me realize that as I approach my period of decay (possibly twink death?) I find that there is not a lot to work with in terms of new people.
Sure, I have not done every single queer guy in my class. But I still have standards! However, I do think this would be a good time to reflect back and maybe rekindle for the sake of finding that community again. That same excitement that the freshmen have was, once upon a time, me meeting whoever was in front of me and genuinely giving it a try at going on a real date.
So, dear reader, you shall hold me accountable to that. But I also want to invite those of you with a lifetime left here on campus to look around, be messy and get to know your fellow “new here” on the grid. There is nothing to lose by meeting the people you’ll be stuck with until the end of your four years here. And who knows, maybe one day you might just fuck their ex on accident — multiple times — too.
Talk soon,
Jack Strap off.
Jack Strap is a student at Cornell University. His fortnightly column "Gulp Fiction" is a discussion of queer sex life exploration. He can be reached at jstrap@cornellsun.com.
