If you pay a whoppin’ three bucks, you can stand awkwardly against a wall and have your pick of any conservative with a buzz cut. It’s a hipster’s dream not come true. A crowded auditorium covered in streamers (imagine how many trees had to die for those decorations) with hundreds of eligible single men with tattoos of American flags and Jesus on their chests. They’ll play mainstream music, have unspiked fruit punch, and you might even get to see some good fistpumping action. It’ll be like reliving your middle school years except without the Fall Out Boy and braces.
Just imagine, standing in your vintage dress being chatted up by a not-so dreamy solider that thinks Bob Dylan is overrated. It takes you a whole five minutes to discover that he’s never read Nietzsche, he’s not a vegetarian or a vegan, and he thinks Occupy Wall Street is bullshit. So maybe he’s not your Prince Charming, but he’s the one who’s closed minded, right?
I actually think this dance is a social experiment to figure out how desperate Sarah Lawrence girls actually are. I mean, it’s fucking ridiculous to think that you’re going to find your soul mate at a military school. It’s actually dumb as shit to think you might even get laid going to the dance. The boys will hear the word “feminist” slip from your mouth and you’ll be left to prove that you can survive without a man.
But if you really want to find a nice hunky military man, you’ll just have to suck it up and say these four words, “I love Ronald Regan.” But be careful, republican is a very contagious, sexually transmitted disease. So don’t be a fool, and wrap that right-winged tool.
But hey, it won’t be all bad. If you bring a flask, you can play a West Point drinking game. Here’s how you play: Take a sip every time you find a guy who’s married. Take a gulp every time you talk to someone who likes Sarah Palin. And start chugging if you meet a member of the Tea Party. If you’re drunk, listening to some asshole talk about guns and trucks won’t be so bad, will it? I guess you’ll just have to wait and see. Oh, and remember, no drunkness will be tolerated. So just tell everyone you have some kind of funky organic water in your flask. No one will suspect anything.
If nothing else, it can be a story you can tell your kids. You’ll be sitting by the fireplace looking at old photo albums and your youngest will point to a picture from the dance and innocently ask, “Mom, where’s this one from?” And you’ll be like, “Oh, that’s from the time when mommy got drunk and grinded against a Republican.” Everyone makes mistakes, right?