Dating at Yale: true romance or wet dream?

"I think it was when I saw Carl* in the library, way back freshman year," Liz Hazen, TC '00, said, remembering her first encounter with longtime squeeze Carl Francis, TC '00. "I didn't know who he was, but I was looking for the Xerox machine and he looked nice, so I asked him where it was. He showed me. That was it. But there was something in his eyes, in his gesture as he pointed me in the right direction..."

As freshman year begins, you can do no better than attempt to unravel that most ineffable of mysteries—love at Yale. Hazen and Francis have struck gold. They have dated steadily for over two years, and they have recently decided to seal the deal.

"Carl proposed to me on the stroke of midnight this New Year's Eve," Hazen gushed. "That was sweet!" For most Yalies, the story of this couple inspires admiration and a bit of envy. A happy Yale couple is, after all, as rare as a pair of virgins at Florida State. After more than 30 years of coeducation, Yale boys and girls still don't really communicate. Rachel*, a junior, is baffled. "Yale should be a veritable matchmaker," she said. "The structure of any university facilitates social interaction to a degree that will never be reproduced in our lives after we graduate." By all rights, we should have a hotter singles scene than spring break in Cancun.

When dorks try to date

So why isn't true love knocking down our doors seven nights a week? It has a lot to do with Yalies' overwhelming seriousness. Hazen is as surprised as anyone that she managed to find Eli romance. "People are focused on their own interests and pursuits," she said. "The stresses of an intense academic environment seem to drain the life out of many people. It seems as though the time a relationship requires seems like too much of a sacrifice to many students here."

Without high expectations, Amy Justman, SM '00, argued, Yalies likely will not consider a relationship a legitimate time investment. "If there's no long-term future," she said, "you'll never be placed ahead of sports, a cappella groups, homework, job interviews, whatever."

"People just don't swing here," Francis added. "You're either married or dead." Andrea Anushko, JE '01, agreed that at Yale, the boogie of casual dating is a lost art. "I get the impression that people here really don't have that much experience in social situations with the opposite sex," she said. "I know many guy friends who are afraid to ask a girl out for fear of getting shot down. What's the big deal? If she says no, you ask someone else."

Hmm, the people at Tyco are cute

A small but brave proportion of Yalies nevertheless puts aside the stereotyping, the physical shortcomings, the expectations of marriage—or even the expectations that love could last more than one night. This segment of the community swears by the random hook-up. Quoting Woody Allen, Andrew Chan, SY '01, noted, "Sex without love may be an empty experience, but as far as empty experiences go, it's one of the best."

At Yale, random hook-ups often induce much more confusion, regret, and barbarity than they do happiness. A stranger's bedside manner can sometimes be so ham-fisted as to extinguish any prospects for passion. One party's interest, however zealous, does not dictate an equivalent response from a would-be companion. Another potential problem is stumbling upon odious sexual peccadilloes.

The latter circumstance is best illustrated by a now-classic slice of Trumbull lore, recounted by Jerry*, a senior: "A girl I knew in Trumbull hooked up after a raucous party with a young man in Trumbull. They went back to his room, clothes were lost, and various carnal activities took place. During the encounter, the girl was surprised that the guy repeatedly and not-so-subtly attempted to initiate what you might call `back-door relations' with her. She rebuffed his anal advances, and after a few minutes of more standard intimacy, he retired to the bathroom. Relieved to have the awkward encounter over with, the girl snuggled up to the pillow to catch some z's. Her hand felt something under the pillow, and her curiosity compelled her to pull out a recent copy of a low-budget porn mag entitled Anal Gangbusters. Needless to say, she didn't stay the night."

In the weenie bins, in LC...

What, then, is a lovelorn Yalie to do? Perhaps there's no hope but to press on stubbornly, trying to learn along the way from the few happy couples among us. For her current relationship, Rachel gives at least partial credit to Yale's residential college design. "I'm convinced that my current boyfriend would be a stranger to me now if it weren't for the college," she observed. "He just transferred to Yale this year, and I only know him from repeated encounters around the college and in the dining hall. We would probably never have taken any of the same classes or have had the same friends otherwise."

CAYTE PUSHKAREVA/YH Love is a many-splendored thing...

Not only do Yale's events and structures facilitate occasional romance, but the University has also blessed us with some bona fide hot spots. Hazen and Francis, in separate interviews, named the same locale: the top of the Art & Architecture building. Rachel admitted that most of her romances have been confined to dormitory rooms, but she adds hopefully, "We're planning to try the Silliman climbing gym."

To make a successful Yale romance, both parties would have to agree that, against all lessons of pop culture, it might actually be sexy to be smart. Hazen is adamant in her response: "Yes, yes, yes. And how!" Francis's answer, while more enigmatic, conceded at least general agreement: "Anything that rhymes with `fart' is sexy."

Hazen offered a simple rule for romantic success: "Have a sense of humor and be able to relax. Most of the fights Carl and I have occur when we take ourselves too seriously." Francis expressed Hazen's wisdom more succinctly: "It's important that you find someone who isn't an asshole." For both, the most crucial survival tactic has been the ability to find humor in stressful situations.

Each August, Yale welcomes some 1,300 new book-smart men and women. But only rarely does a Yale freshman, having devoted endless energy to academics and extracurriculars in high school, enter college with a functional knowledge of what makes relationships work.

In a community stocked with similar specimens of romantic retardation, the chances of learning relationship etiquette at Yale and practicing it with a truly special significant other seem unlikely. But if all else fails, an ambitious freshman can always seek out an upperclassman with a pedagogical streak. "I am known as the sex goddess of the Yale campus," Julia Kots, TC '01, purred. "I welcome freshmen to Yale in my own special way." Photo by Tyler Mertes.

* Names changed to protect anonymity.

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