Everyone knows that sorority girls and gay guys go together like GDIs and their right hands. Unless of course you’re bottom tier, because the gays, while possessing a high tolerance for vodka and designer drugs, have a low tolerance for ugly. And why do we love them? They’re the perfect fusion of girlfriend meets asshole. Just enough to make us squeal. And why do they love us? The same reason everyone loves us, because we’re the prettiest, richest, most spectacular girls out there. And also because they love to be adored.
Throughout your years in college, you’ll notice that every infamous gay guy at your school is basically an honorary initiate in a top-tier sorority (except that he doesn’t have any of the irritating obligations like formal chapter or mandatory speakers). It all started because he lived in the same building as one sister freshman year, but he’s slowly become a part of your pledge class. He showed up to a party when you were a new girl, and everyone instantly fell in love. From that point forward, he’s been invited to every date function your chapter has hosted, with his date alternating each time depending on who just had a major breakup or meltdown due to an infidelity or some other occurrence of general douchebaggery on her not-boyfriend’s part. He really is the best date you could ask for, because in addition to doing something, well, something gay (like matching his tie to your dress), he breaks it down on the dance floor all night long, reminding you when you think you’re too tired or hungry that taking your heels off would make you 4 ½ inches uglier, and the platter of hors’ dourves in the cocktail room is your enemy.
His pictures begin to surface in every scrapbook. He may or may not have attempted to show up for composites, but he has 100% asked someone to snag an extra philanthropy t-shirt for him. Because he’s cut off from all of his sisters during recruitment, bid day is his favorite day of the year. He finally gets to be reconnected with the loves of his life, discovers whether any of the cute freshman girls he attempted to dirty rush made the cut, and is shamelessly thrown at all of the babies for special deliveries, extra special tutorials, and games of pin-the-junk-on-the-hunk under the alias “Mr. Cum Giggles” during big/little week.
You’ll remain in his good graces as long as you don’t try to set him up with someone just because he’s gay, besides they ALL know each other already anyway (networking within the gay community is uncanny). Or GOD FORBID you tell him he’s not really a part of your sorority. So here’s to all the gay besties. Thanks for using your “straight voice” to ward off lanky nerds, for being the only one to tell us, “No, no…that hair color does, in fact, wash you out,” and for always being there to discuss boy drama over drinks. Love ya, betch. See you at happy hour.