A new social scene

In high school I thought a lot about college. I imagined taking atypical classes, meeting articulate peers and dating fascinating women. I never contemplated social life much beyond college, though. My parents met and married in graduate school and my elder sister, now in medical school, her routine of class and studying so mirroring my undergraduate life that it did not force me to consider social options in the Real World.

But because most of my Princeton friends were working in New York City this summer, and empowered with my newly-acquired legal age, I indulged the post-grad single/bar scene to explore where I perhaps would found myself in one year's time. After a short-lived summer sampling various saloons (both in and out of the city), my reservations about bar life have been confirmed and my trepidation for the post-college social scene is only greater.

First, unlike our spoiled outings to the eating clubs, visits to bars are expensive.

There are usually cover charges on popular nights. You suddenly realize how expensive a night out in the Real World can be as you shovel over the cash to Bouncer #3 that evening. Like entrance charges, drinks, a principal motivation for going out, are certainly above eating club prices. At some of the more upscale sociable scenes (the kinds of places I would like to meet people), hard alcohol for my companion and me ran $17 (plus $2 tip). And given that subways do not run past 1:30 a.m., better budget a $7 cab ride back uptown.

Attempting to meet people at bars is the proverbial carrot on a stick, tempting, but chronically fruitless. Unlike eating clubs, which provide a forum to catch up with cute acquaintances, at bars your chances of bumping into someone you know outside the group of friends you go out with is slim to none. Even if you do, you can't be heard above the pounding dance music without leaning forward or shouting into their ears. While at eating clubs, you can escape to an un-DJ-Bob-ified room somewhere (the tap room or even outside), at most bars you are captive to the dance music even if not near the dance floor, and therefore confined to the uncommunicative atmosphere it breeds.

Flirting is also more difficult at bars because it is harder to judge the age of others. At eating clubs– or anywhere in college for that matter– we assume everyone to be 18-21. Bars, on the other hand are a tremendously more mixed bag. While the age ambiguity at bars may not be such a problem for girls (who can always date older) it can be a bit embarrassing for us guys to hit on a girl who looks 22 but whom you learn has been at her company for five years.

The bar-scene traps you in ways that the eating clubs don't. Unlike the room parties and eating clubs that are literally in our backyards, bars are often across town. While I am accustomed to departing the eating clubs whenever I wish, venturing home alone at 2:30 a.m. in the city is much more of an ordeal, and such a prospect kept me out later than I desired so as to exit in the company of my friends.

In all my years at Princeton, I have never enjoyed weekend parties at eating clubs, so I consistently prioritize work over schmoozing. For all of you who rank work over searching for dates, I applaud your diligence and the achievements you earn from it. I would never be one to stand in the way of Friday nights at Firestone, but bear in mind the alternatives. Although I find the eating club scene disappointing, the ease of social opportunities here is great, and perhaps only appreciated in comparison. Dan Zauber is a History major from South Orange, NJ. He can be reached at dzauber@princeton.edu.