And here was the uniform of the day, head to toe: Bottle-blond ponytail, cellphone pasted to ear, pastel cashmere pashmina tossed carelessly but perfectly around the shoulders, thin T-shirt, teeny-tiniest cotton knit shorts (typically gray) showing off tanned legs, beige Ugg boots (the high-calf style).When I was a student at Delaware, I once ate dinner at the student center on sorority rush night. I didn't realize it was sorority rush night. At 7pm the gates of Trabant opened and in walked hundreds of would-be sorority girls all dressed exactly the same. It was like a cowboy movie where you see a few cows and then the herd crashed through camp all at once. Everywhere there were boots, boot-cut jeans, form fitting shirts, 3/4 length leather jackets. Evidently there was a dress code. Obviously I didn't meet it.
I continued eating my Chick-Fil-A 12-pack nuggets (mmm... Polynesian sauce), agape at the emergence of the UD sorority hive mind. I looked around and saw one other male in the entire student center. I edged to a table closer to them. I hoped he would have my back if the mob became violent. Secretly I knew it would be every man for himself. Should trouble arise, our first action would be to throw the other in front of the estrogen crazed crowd.
I raced to finish my meal and left. My footspeed added a sense of security. There was no way they could keep up with me in the shoes they were wearing.
I know now that I was in no real danger. But trust me, that many sorority girls can suck all the intelligence right out of a room.