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Issue 17.3: living
Posted: October 13, 2001

Third Annual Fed Date Results In Tragedy

How far some will go for just a little roll in the hay with the old campus humor paper

Amy Phillips

The Fed shows up with flowers, because first impressions are important. We also brushed our teeth real good.
It's all fun and games until the roofies kicked in.
As the night progressed, we got more friendly.
Damn you, Kunal! And your little dog, too! We'd only ever kissed before.
The shame! The shame! Our good faith was totally betrayed.

Crafting a quality newspaper using only primitive tools is hard, time-consuming work, so The Fed staff rarely has a moment to spare for socializing. It gets awfully lonely in our Lerner crawlspace late at night, when the only company we have is the CTV staff and the jukebox playing The Best of Dolly Parton. So once a year we like to treat ourselves and one lucky winner to a night of fun and frolicking, Fed-style.

Given our shoddy track record with upperclasspeople (see Fed Dates of the past two years), we were ecstatic to discover that the name drawn from the Magic Fed Baseball Cap at Activities' Day last month belonged to a wide-eyed, eager First Year. Kunal, a SEAS student fresh off the boat from Connecticut, said he appreciated our "Orientation Friends Hate You?" flyers and wanted to write for us. He was even wearing a shirt that had the word "WHORE" on it. It was like-like at first sight-- perhaps this would be the beginning of a whirlwind romance. Yet little did we know what lurked beneath Kunal's adorable exterior.

We decided to treat our man to a relaxing evening of dinner and drinks at home, not realizing what a mistake this would prove to be. Choosing our outfit for the Big Night was tough, but we eventually settled on jeans and a T-shirt. Boy, were we nervous. We picked Kunal up at 8 and walked with him over to our place, chatting about L & R and the John Jay dining hall (turns out he hates both of them, just like we did when we were First Years!) He looked so cute in his Nine Inch Nails t- shirt-we hoped he wouldn't mind the lack of industrial goth rock in our music collection. When we arrived at our pad, we slipped on some Edith Piaf to lighten the mood and he didn't complain.

As the barbecue we had prepared heated up out back, things heated up inside. Munching on crudites and sipping cocktails, Kunal laughed at all our jokes and even told some pretty funny ones himself. We felt totally comfortable with him, and discovered that we have a lot in common, including love for anime movies and wacky websites like timecube.com. Former Feditor Tom, paying a surprise visit, monopolized Kunal's attention while we served and ate the hamburgers and hot dogs, since both of them had spent time working for their fathers' computer companies. Back issues were displayed, and Kunal complimented us on them. Sparks flew. We moved a little closer to him on the couch. If only we had been warned about what was to come.

Things started getting silly after dinner. Maybe it was the electricity in the air; maybe it was all the vodka and Heineken we were drinking. Feeling tipsy, we horsed around a little bit and let down our guard. Kunal made us feel sexy and free. We wanted to tell him all our secrets, like the password to our computer system and how much money we have in our budget. Articles of clothing were shed. Someone put Jimmy Buffett on the stereo. The alcohol supply seemed like it would never run out. This was as fun as the Fed Bash!

Then we started to feel a little sick. The room was spinning and we couldn't remember where we were. Our shirts were missing and we had a headache. A dog appeared from somewhere-- or maybe we just imagined that. All we wanted to do was go to sleep. What was going on? What was wrong with us? Kunal didn't seem to be affected; he continued to pour us drinks and tell us jokes. It must have been something we ate. We didn't want to disappoint him or scare him away, so we continued to laugh and pound ‘em back. What would happen if we blew this chance with him? Would we ever meet someone else so right for us? We had to hide our dizziness as much as possible. The thought of all those lonely nights of surfing the Internet for filler graphics kept our heads up. Kunal, Kunal . . .

Everything went black. The next thing we knew it was morning. We were naked. Kunal was gone and so was our stereo system, our television and our computer. Our lower intestines were rebelling against us and we all made a beeline for the toilet at once, and it was ugly. We felt so horrible, so dirty, so taken advantage of. We were sore in places we never knew existed. It hurt to sit down.

Why did you do this to us, Kunal? We thought you liked us. We thought there was something there. We thought this would last a long time. Did you feel nothing at all? Was it all a lie? Were you really working for the administration? The Jester? The Spec? Oh, the pain. The anguish. The embarrassment. How will we ever love again?