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If I ever lose track of what day it is, I simply wait until I overhear the phrase “Bro, we’re gonna rage tonight,” used repeatedly on campus.
I have had the distinct pleasure of attending a couple of these shindigs this year, and I found a few commonalities among them that I thought I would share.
First of all, everything inside the frat house is moist. People are grotesquely sweaty because of the close quarters, the crowd, and their perception that “shawty” must not only drop it low, but drop it low for twelve consecutive songs until they have perspired enough to fill several kegs. The floor is wet with spilled drinks because apparently getting tipsy means giving your drink a tipsy, as well.
I was instructed to wear a white shirt, since it glows in the black-light. This shirt ended up getting soaked by a cheap wine cooler. I guess the girl dancing next to me figured it was fine to hold her beverage high above her head and slosh it around to the beat of the finest dubstep. Essentially, if you’re attending a frat party, you better pray the party is beach themed so you can just wear a swimsuit — you will get damp one way or another.
Themes are another constant of the frat party. There are approximately two to three themes that the parties alternate between, but their common factors include getting attendees to wear as little clothing as possible. Sometimes this is explicitly stated, in the case of “ABC parties” which implore its attendants to wear “anything but clothes”. Anything. Fashion a bra and underwear out of duct tape. Use a plastic bag as a loin cloth. Tape cardboard to your bare chest. Just please, they beg of you, don’t wear clothes. This theme is especially helpful when trying to scope out someone compatible to dance with.
“Is that an Urban Outfitters bag wrapped around that guy’s butt? Dibs!”
Other times the dress code is less specific. Perhaps they tell you to arrive ready to party like it’s 1990. However, what they don’t tell you is that your dad’s giant pair of overalls with a grungy plaid shirt underneath is not acceptable. You should know to cut the plaid shirt into a crop top and just wear a short, skin-tight skirt on the bottom even if it does not correlate with the theme.
The last thing I found to be true for each of the frat parties I attended was that you will leave with a headache. You will likely have an aching head from a combination of one too many shots and double vision that worsens as the night wears on and morning arrives. I strongly recommend popping a few aspirin before the big night to avoid anything getting in the way of your raging — and I do mean that in a kind and helpful manner.
Stressed out students need an escape from the mundane, and I understand that bumping bass and dirty dancing might be the ideal solution. I even enjoy a good dance trance from time to time. My argument is that in a town as wonderfully interesting as Boulder, don’t let the guilty pleasure of frat parties become your only form of entertainment.
Gather up your party crew and hike the Flatirons. Go coffee-shop hopping. Eat a delicious dinner on Pearl Street. Try your hand at a sport other than beer pong. Buy some hot clothes at one of the unique Boulder boutiques that you can wear the next time you feel like getting your frat on.
Better yet, you can join me in my room watching whatever is new on Hulu while shoving pretzels down my throat. You can even wear a plastic bag if you want.
Contact CU Independent Staff Writer Lizzy Hernandez at Elizabeth.email@example.com.