While the male contingency of this fine university skipped happily from one fraternity-run free buffet to another wrapped happily in their beer blankets, nearly 500 freshmen ladies couldn’t feel their toes. While we stood outside one sorority house after another, we prayed not to fall or fart while inside, hoping to get a call back from our top choice (we wouldn’t have minded a warm bath either). Knees knocking and teeth chattering, we females huddled together in alphabetically-ordered single file lines and tried to bear the bitter winds in our brand new high-heeled booties.
As if this humiliation wasn't uncomfortable enough, once inside the houses, sisters coddled us and asked, “Is it really that cold out there?” Yes, yes it is. On Monday we didn’t have classes and you made us stand out in a freaking snowstorm. Are you kidding? So they pat our arms and say, “Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.” Until this evening’s Bid Night, we freshmen biddies will just have to wait — most indecently — in a crowded Houston Hall doubting whether the near-frostbite and blisters are at all worth it.
