By: Julia Busatto

I used to be under the impression that the love of my life would be standing beside a keg waiting to fill my red solo cup with swamp water beer. He’d notice me although I was merely one in a sea of a thousand girls jammed into a tiny backyard. He’d stop getting “turnt” so he could actually remember my name the next morning, and text me although I refused to give up the goods on the first night. But if you’re looking for true love beside the keg, you’re probably looking in the wrong place. Red Solo Cups are called “solo” for a reason.

Finding true love at keggers is nearly impossible. Number one, it’s a kegger. The lighting is dark, the place is too crowded, the floor is sticky, and some girl just spilt her birthday cake vodka all over your DIY crop top. Romantic, right?

The first disadvantage is noise. I’ve tried holding substantial conversations with members of the opposite sex at keggers, and it proves to be a strenuous task. The EDM blaring in the background makes it impossible to block out the “unst” no matter how hard you try. Every so often the guy you’re talking to yells, “yo bro what’s up?” to guys passing by and they stop to engage in ritualistic manly greetings. Your vocals are in constant strain as you yell into his face, praying to god that you don’t spit.

The second disadvantage is environment. Keggers can be dark, dingy, and downright unflattering. Everyone is sweaty, and you constantly feel like throwing your elbows up to defend yourself from the shuffling crowds. It is hard to select a mate when you feel like everyone there has groped you. Not to mention, you feel like you have been cast into a pit of hungry vipers all waiting for the right girl to fall into their lap so they can take a bite. And the smell—yikes.

The third disadvantage is motives while drunk. I don’t want to make grotesque generalizations, but a lot of the men I’ve encountered at keggers aren’t thinking about taking me home to meet their mom, and vice versa. We’re just simply not interested in considering the person we meet at a kegger as a potential serious partner; they only seem like a temporary distraction that will keep us amused for the night. The environment is too causal and crazy, the people are too drunk, the beer too gross, and the smell too bad to take anything, let alone a potential partner, seriously. We’d rather return to the line to fill up our cup than continue talking to the person whose face we’ve spent the last ten minutes trying to decipher. We’re drunk, our perception is skewed, and the last thing on our mind is a dinner date and movie.

Save yourself the trouble and try the grocery store.

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