“What if Speed Dating Men Wasn’t Gay?” Asks Frat Bro About to Invent Rush

I like men. But not like, like that. I don’t wanna kiss them or cuddle them or go on Zillow and choose a dream house in Malibu that’d be absolutely perfect for raising our adopted children. I just think that speed-dating men shouldn’t be considered “gay.” Wait, I know. We could call it “rush.”

It’d be a yearly process where you have to go out with as many men as possible to try to win the privilege of living in their house. A house full of only guys. On a street of houses full of only guys. We’ll call it “frat row.” But not in a weird way, though. They just need to horse around and get some stuff out of their systems in a way you only can with guys but not like, like that. Just guys being dudes, you know.

On those meals, by the way, everything will be based on appearance, because you’re only meeting strangers. Staring them deep in the eyes, often at a loss for words, desperately just trying to keep them at the table. You ever seen a Tinder hookup? Small talk with a deep underlying expectation that neither party will mention but which drives the entire interaction? Kinda like that. But like, no sexual tension at all. I swear.

And then once you get in? Oh, that’s when things really get wild. We’re gonna show up at your door at two in the morning (but not for like, sex stuff), and whisk you away to a night of masculine adventures. You’re gonna do elephant walks (actual frat practice), chug beer out of each others’ butts (actual frat practice), and have sex with inanimate objects in front of each other (actual frat practice). But at our frat, Kappa Epsilon Gamma, you’re not gonna encounter all that — we’re chill. We’ll just play pong, watch football games, and kiss each other tenderly as the sun sets and our hearts’ desires gleam as freely as the full moon (actual frat practice). 

(Pants optional).

One thing’s for sure, though: you won’t have to worry about brother dates making you look gay. It’s all part of the process–a system that’s churned out generation after generation of fine Dartmouth men.

Definitely don’t rush ADPi, though. That’s the gay frat.

— SS ’26