Why Boys are Icky. A Report from the Front.

Both of my daughters are extremely bright and competent young ladies pursuing their own adventures. My youngest has gone off to Queen’s which is across the harbour from the Royal Military College, Canada’s oldest officer training school. The girls on her dorm floor were invited to attend an RMC dance. Those of you with teenaged boys may want to direct their attention to what girls think. Here is her After Action Report, names have been changed to protect the innocent:



Short version:

The RMC dance was fun.


Very long version:

Right before we all went to get changed X_______ found out that it was a more casual event than we'd thought so I just wore my white dress with black tights, my birthday necklace, and my black wrap sweater over for warmth. The rest of the group also went for the dress with cardigan/wrap/jacket on top look.

I got the age-of-magical-access-to-alcohol wristband but to drink you had to go on the drinky drinky side of the room. It looked like a pain in the butt and scary since only 1 of my friends (X) there is old enough to drink and she was with her boyfriend (Cadet A) so I didn't want to 3rd wheel it. Thus, I drank Dr. Pepper (also, it's cheaper! Yeah!)

The music: The Trews were good and I knew almost all their songs from fm96 back home. Kind of got bored after a while though so Y___ and I sat down for a well deserved Dr. Pepper break.

Once The Trews finished, a DJ took over and it was a fairly fun music selection. Strangely, the DJ was fond of alternating Great Big Sea tracks with tracks like Far East Movement and Ke$ha . People danced about the same to both... we all sort of squared danced at some point though.

We also learned that Dancing Queen  makes RMC boys take their shirts off.

Boys boys boys! :

The few girls who’s dates didn't cancel out were decent human beings and by the end of the night most of the arbitrarily assigned "couples" were making out/grinding/exchanging phone numbers while proclaiming their undying like like for each other. Cue alternating "awwwwwwwww"-ing and gagging from the rest of us. Although some giggling, drunken bags of hormones had to be poured into a taxi alone.

Of the remaining sober girls who didn't have a guy, we danced it up. Sometimes we were left alone in our disco inferno / Buffy dancing/ cha cha-ing but for the most part, any group of us gathering was surrounded (at varying proximity) by a drooling flock of horn dogs.

Sometimes we didn't mind: some of the guys were acceptably attractive and seemed non-repulsive. These guys would dance with the whole group and made eye-contact in a non-creepy way and usually their dance moves involved minimal thrust-puppying.

Some of the other lads were disturbingly fond of the "grab the girl's waist without asking and try to grind" approach to courtship however. This one super creepy guy tried that on W____ (one of my floor mates that's pretty no nonsense to begin with AND was paired up) and she jumped away and was like "Oh, thanks but I can't. I'm here with someone." and then he got in a grump about it before trying the exact same thing on every other girl in our group before we ran away. U_____ had to tell a guy she was engaged just so he'd stop trying to grab her.

Luckily, when guys would start getting really creepy, A____ would usually come over with X_____ and dance with us while giving the creeps the "That's right. They're with me. And I'm a 2nd year. Keep walking" glare. We decided last night that we love A_____ and he is definitely an honourary Adelady now. We even included him in our fruit loops and salsa pajama after party. Most hilarious.

One really creepy guy was trying to dance with me (in an interesting variation though, by trying to grind up against me from the side versus the usual waist method as seen above). The A____ glares didn't seem to have much effect so finally I did the "Oh look! My friend! Over there!" not-so-subtle run several feet away to dance with S_____ and Y_____ instead. Another time, a guy was trying to creep our whole group so Y______ grabbed my and S____'s hands and danced us away into the crowd.

You’re probably thinking at this point, "Silly Bunny! You should want to dance with RMC boys! That's just how people dance!" but I say "HAH!". All of the stereotypical "I can speak 5 languages and have chiseled features like a greek statue" boys were taken, leaving the gormless mouth breathing ones. Icky.

I wasn’t, and I’m glad she wasn’t one of the giggling drunken bags of hormones being poured into a taxi. Besides one of the multilingual Grecian deities may break up with his girlfriend in the future, so it’s always good to make a Good Impression.