Minus the City: Seeking Unicorns

Arianne Templeton and Lizzie Ellis

You may not be familiar with Scott Brown, Dean of Students and omniscient Colgate expert, but we are. While speaking with him last week, he was kind enough to share his favorite soundbyte with us. We feel that it is not only very wise, but that we should honor this tall Yoda’s overshare with a column devoted to the following quotation:

“The sober hookup is like the unicorn of Colgate.”

Take a second. Absorb.

Okay, down to business. Let’s begin with a brief explication of the unicorn. This mythical beast is unspeakably beautiful, rare and allegedly extinct. That is, there have been no reported sightings since Noah’s Ark cast off in the Old Testament. Throughout history, dreamers have sought this elusive creature (legendary because of its purity) to no avail. The search continues right here in Hamilton, New York, where the alleged unicorns tend to be genetically mutated horses with superiority complexes.

For the nine of you who frolic with your fellow unicorns in fields of monogamous substance-free bliss: you are in the minority. This week’s column holds no epiphanies for you, either flip the page or read on and keep the gloating to yourself.

Before you jump right into the “gloating” group, however, let’s make one very important qualification. The Sober Hookup is a situation that begins and ends with complete sobriety for both parties.

Yes, that does in fact mean that your morning-after pillowtalk/makeout session does not make for unicorn material. Don’t get us wrong…we acknowledge that you may in fact be sober by the time the morning rolls around, but it’s really an extension of last night’s hazy debauchery.

The true Sober Hookup’s intangibility stems from the social obstacles involved in such a pursuit. Not only do you have to be moderately attracted to the object of your desire (without the aid of beer goggles and/or dark corners), but you also have to have the non-liquid courage to initiate the Hookup. It takes a large amount of self-confidence, and fear of rejection could send even the most avid suitor sprinting for the bars. It turns out that your cheesy pick-up lines are 99 percent less effective when applied during the daytime. “Just call me milk, I’ll do your body good” may elicit a sympathetic giggle on karaoke night at Nichols, but try the same method during the walk home from a Coop mailroom check and you may find yourself face down on the pavement.

You may slip up right before reaching the finish line of your quest for the unicorn. It’s difficult to resist taking the easy way out, getting shwasted and jumping the bones of whomever you’re building a foundation with. However, try to hold out until that glorious day (or night) when your dreams of a unicorn sighting can finally come true over a movie night. Somehow, though, no matter how many shimmering white manes turn out to be a lousy paint job, cock-eyed optimists everywhere manage to keep a vigilant eye out for that truly “horny” individual.