Summer Lovin', Had Me a Blast. Or Not.

Besides the fact that Danny and Sandy passed a summer frolicking on a deserted beach, prematurely climaxing from the sexual tension, why did they have such a blast? If you recall, this was all happening before their senior year in high school. It's a bit different after a year — or three — of college. Although previously, the onset of summer vacation was a good thing, at the collegiate level it's anything but. The routine you've had for almost a year is rudely and tremendously interrupted: friends are suddenly on various continents; you have to spend money to go out; and it becomes a lot harder to get some sweet, sweet pootie tang.

The Orange Bubble encloses the typical collegiate pool of eligible individuals, and we take its rich market of sexual prospects for granted. Regardless of where and how you spend your summer, it's almost guaranteed to present less potential than college. I myself passed a lonely summer, as my two-hours-each-way commute between my summer digs in the Bronx and my internship in Chinatown left little time for the pursuing and enjoying of any ass.

Furthermore, said digs were under Grandma's roof, where opportunity for sexual achievement can only be measured in the negative. One friend of mine, who spent his summer braving the cold sexual waters of a major metropolis, was resolutely defensive, even claiming once to have two hot dates lined up for one weekend. Of course, some suspect that these two dates may have been with, respectively, Right Hand and Towel — it is a big, bad world out there.

If you happen to have made it with someone that you still want to know in the morning (and vice-versa), the summer more often than not imposes a rather inconvenient distance upon your usual doings. Unless the two of you are spending your summer in the same place, you'll likely have to call it quits (or at least temporary timeouts), search between the couch cushions for spare frequent flyer miles, or resort to creative masturbatory techniques for the duration. Two summers ago, another friend found herself separated from her boyfriend by some 1,200 miles. The distance ultimately dissolved their relationship; love may conquer almost all, but it was no match for the cobwebs in her panties.

While our spring break or, say, fall semester exams rarely coincide with other schools', everyone has roughly the same summer vacation. That means that a summer at home will often include Joey or Dawson or whoever used to climb in through your window for torrid nights of dry-humping, bumbling hand-jobs and really long movies.

When I returned home for the summer after freshman year, I unwisely fell back into the arms of an old flame, who I later found out had been seeing me while porking a circling buzzard I had gone to high school with. Let this be a lesson to all: while a blast from the past may be welcome after the metaphorical hamster wheel that getting some at school often feels like, things may have changed. Particularly levels of discretion and STD test results.

Alternately, you can always look for a sweet, young thang to break in, but be wary of the one-pervy-college-kid-at-a-high-school-party trap. Beyond that, you may want to ask for positive ID and/or affirm daily: "I am not a pedophile."

And, oh, the parents. You can forget the unchecked moaning and semipublic displays of major affection that you've enjoyed during the year. Instead, expect a regression to The Way Things Were Before; it's much easier to ask your roommate not to knock for an hour or two than to ask that of your mom. While being interrupted at school rarely results in more than a good, tense laugh, the same situation at home can result in equipment failure and some serious awkwardness. The matter is only complicated if you've come home to find that what used to be the luxury of a room to call your own has been converted into an office for your dad or a shoe closet for your sister.

On the upside, as one enterprising friend pointed out, summer means you can have sex outside. And now we're back at school, and it's still warm out...