As of last weekend, my track record with the boys here at Brown was not too impressive. It actually really only consisted of the Walk of Shame and one phantom-like boy whom I saw from afar at the Ratty. He graciously gave me a polite half-wave. I figured that this scenario would be college: random hook-ups, lots of parties, and never breakfast. My friends from high school would often talk about the college dating scene and how it was withering, smothered to death by the giant presence of booty calls and DFMOs. I always thought they were being slightly dramatic but after my fiasco the first weekend I wasn’t so sure.