The Art and Science of the Booty Call

StuffFratPeopleLike13 years ago

It happens to the best of us. Maybe it was because of that eighth whiskey drink, or maybe it was because of your reputation for sexual nonchalance, but here you are at last call, completely struck out. You tried to sway the too-easily impressionable minds of the freshmen “babies.” You hit on an old slam, hoping to rekindle the casual sexuality you once so closely shared. No matter where you turn, you’re dropping the ball more than Chris Rainey on a punt return. All may seem lost, but I am here to assure you that your genitalia need not go untouched tonight, for we have the saving graces of the booty call.

To truly be able to classify a sorority woman as a “booty call” there is an unrelenting time-tested formula. All you have to do is figure out the average amount of texts exchanged before she is at your place, preferably naked. If the number is less than three, you’ve got yourself a booty call. Booty call texts typically spawn in the wee hours of the night, when both parties are adequately intoxicated. It can be anything from “hey, what are you up to?” to the blatant, but effective “let’s fuck.” Some girls even employ the use of code words to make the act seem more casual (and presumably to make her feel like less of a slut). If a girl ever asks you to help “water her plants” at two in the morning, chances are you won’t be doing any gardening.

The sad fact with most booty calls is they aren’t always up to snuff when compared to your usual female selections. I’m here to say that in some cases, it’s alright to settle. As long as you aren’t batting too far below your average, it’s absolutely permissible to bag a 6.5 when heavily under the influence. On the bright side, most 6.5s know where they stand on the scale, so they won’t be surprised if you leave their place immediately afterwards to avoid the miserably awkward “post-fuck cuddle sesh.” No one ever wants that, so if any girls are still reading (and haven’t closed the window in disgust), I beg you to stop. Cuddling is a girlfriend privilege, and if our only contact happens when I’m 12 beers deep, you’re not even close to that level.

However your booty calls may evolve through the years, you will always come to rely on and respect them for what they are. Any night that you don’t seem to have much luck with the fairer sex, the booty call is ready to save you in all its shamefully sexual glory. All you have to do is swallow your pride, and as much whiskey as possible. She’ll return the favor.