thealternative
The street is for sex. It has been this way since I got to Princeton.
Naïve freshman walk to the Street hoping to find an amusing and fun dance floor make out, and learn that a “hook up” at Princeton means something more.
For me, going home with someone was the norm and goal for the night. I loved the Street. The best nights always lasted 8-10 hours, and involved getting dressed up, meeting with friends, pregaming hard, walking over to the clubs together as a loud and obnoxious group, and hitting the dance floor for some hot sweaty times.
During my first few months, I went out 2-4 times a week. It was exciting, new, and seemed normal. Everyone was doing it.
But flirting and dancing soon escalated to a somewhat gross event. I have witnessed friends dancing with a guy, bodies getting closer, the inevitable DFMO, and then the quick parting of ways…only to watch the same guy go through the same steps with a different girl only five minutes later. (I have seen girls do this as well) Swapping spit with as many people as possible, hoping to “get a taste of Princeton”, is fun for a while, and trust me, I get that. But that doesn’t mean it has to lead to sex, although for some reason a lot of students think it does. I was tired of being treated like a piece of meat. I wanted something more.
I started dating a guy in during the spring of my freshman year. He was perfect for me, and I soon swapped my high heels and sexy tops for oversized sweats and glasses. My exciting Saturday nights out became meaningful and “romantic” nights in, full of Chinese takeout, hours of conversation, and movie marathons. I loved it.
I immersed myself in this relationship for half my time at Princeton. I lost touch with most of my friends, and spent more and more time strengthening the relationship with this fabulous guy. And then, of course, it ended.
Now what? I didn’t know what to do.
I no longer wanted to drink too much, stumble through Frist at all hours of the night screaming for pizza, or wake up on Sunday at 3pm with a hangover that I swear lasted for 24 hours (although now I do this occasionally, and it’s kind of refreshing).
I didn’t want to grind all over random guys and “have sex with my clothes on” all over the dance floor. That is what the Street had been to me—a place where people go to hook up and never talk about it again. I wanted to stay in, have a game night with wine, or chill with my friends and have a movie marathon. But there really isn’t a place for this on campus. Apparently, it’s either go out and get wasted, or stay in sober.
It took a couple months, but I managed to once again have an amazing time at the Street. But now, I do it at my own pace, and dance with whom I want.
My nights usually end up on the dance floor twerking like crazy, happy and solo. I get to see all of my friends, chill out on the couches, play pong for days, and bond over a plate of late night tenders and fries. The Street is fun again. But I don’t go out too many nights a week, and sometimes I don’t go out for weeks at a time. I wish that there were a way to have a “night in” where the social scene was comparable.