The weirder thing is that freshman girls aren't looking any younger, unlike their boy counterparts, who I swear come shorter and scrawnier every year. It's deceiving when freshman girls come fully developed physically when they're not anywhere close maturity wise. They need that first year of college life before they're experienced enough to be integrated into the dating pool.
Ok, so I lied. I don't necessarily agree with the above paragraph. I really do believe there are many mature frosh girls out there ready and waiting to be dated. But sadly, I'm terrified to death of what that might do to my social life.
Last year I was 22 and really had no qualms about dating freshman girls. The only downside I could see was that none of them seemed to have a car, therefore, always needing me to come pick them up. After turning 23, I really didn't notice anything had changed until Jaron, our youngest roommate, decided to bring over a few froshes for a game night. I didn't mind, due to the fact that all five girls were attractive and flirtatious. One of the cuter brunettes, Lindsey, caught my attention immediately with her five star smile and it wasn't long before our witty banter turned into cuddling on the couch watching the movie "Hitch." After the girls left, Lindsey started texting me. I decided to take a leap of faith and invited her over to my parents' house for an extended family BBQ for the following day. She quickly said yes, so the next morning, I picked her up and drove to my parents house for the festivities.
Now before I continue, let me explain a few things. My family is usually pretty cool when I bring a girl home, but they do like to give me a hard time every once in a while when the oppertunity presents itself. Especially my sister Kelli, who had just graduated from high school and was headed up to UVU. A few day prior, I had given her the older brother talk about how freshmen girls should date freshmen guys and to hold off on dating RM's till the next year. Upon arrival, I quickly introduced Lindsey to the fam, and then founds seats by Kelli. I listened to the girls chat away while I dug into my hotdog and only froze when Kelli asked Lindsey where she was going to school. Choking on my hot dog, I tried grabbing Lindsey's attention by....... choking on my hot dog, but to no avail. It was too late. All I could do was close my eyes in terror while wishing I knew how to make louder choking noises. Lindsey explained how she had just finished high school was about to start college. My sister Kelli's face lit up with pure, mischevious delight and exclaimed, "Oh my word, me too!" And though she was still talking to Lindsey, she turned to me meaningfully and said,"We're the same age!"
That's when it finally hit me. I had just crossed an invisible, yet very apparent social barrier. I had never felt so.....weird. As I drove Lindsey back to her house, I started to mull over in my mind what made this age gap socially unacceptable, along with, how could I keep this same faux pas from happening to me again.
After getting home, I went whimpering to El Conquistador and Chase and explained my dilemma hoping to gain some wisdom and comfort. After a lengthy discussion, we stumbled upon this brilliant piece of dogma:
The Dating Age Formula (DAF)
(His Age/2)+7=Her Minimum Age
or if you're a girl,
(Her Age-7)x2=His Maximum Age
Besides being a brilliant equation, 16 is the lowest number you can use and still have the formula make sense, which also happens to be the recommended minimum Mormon dating age. If you plug my age, 23, into the equation, you get (23/2)+7=18 and a half. Rounding up you get 19. That's probably why my girl blunder wasn't obvious at first. Lindsey was just out of my range since she had barely turned 18.
Although extremely accurate, I'm sure there are people out there who have found exceptions to this formula. Take my good friend Rianna for example. Our freshman year of college, she went off and married a 29 year old by the end of her first semester. To be honest, I'm still creeped out by that; but heck, they made it work. All in all, this equation functions as a strong guideline for those who want to avoid the phrase "robbing the cradle." And although I stand firmly behind this dating code and have no intentions of breaking it, it won't stop me from facebook stalking the crap out of a couple of hot freshman girls I've seen walking around campus. This also happens to raise the question: why does every female freshman create a photo album labeled, "College Life"....? Really girls........
