Ryan Breedyk & Noah Godwin
Contributing Writer & Assistant Sports Editor
The clock is ticking for Pepperdine seniors, but especially for females.
Most of us don’t know what’s next. We have no clue about what job we’ll take or even where we’ll live. All of us share in the pressures that come with knowing that in one month our leases will be up.
But only the females at Pepperdine carry the extra burden of knowing they’ve failed at finishing school with the degree they hoped they could obtain: the Mrs. degree.
Pepperdine is notorious for having an abundance, if that’s possible, of beautiful and wealthy girls.
While that abundance has been the only way many of us guys could have enjoyed such a wonderful past four years, it doesn’t necessarily bode well for the futures of these young women.
They’ve spent their entire lives being sheltered beneath their Louis Vuitton bags while being fed with a silver spoon. They’ve swooned countless men in Malibu using sultry looks partially hidden behind their Gucci sunglasses.
But in the midst of that swooning, these women lost sight of latching onto a man capable of replacing their parents as the bread-winners in their lives.
So that puts these women into quite the precarious situation. They either get a job but in doing so lose that rich-girl persona they have tried so hard to maintain. Or they make last-ditch efforts now to marry a man willing to swallow his pride enough to take an entry-level position so they don’t have to take one themselves and in so doing give the impression that they are in anyway connected to the normal, more average people in the world.
We’re assuming that Daddy values his company and doesn’t have so much money to pay his daughter to do nothing, and this is even more time if you consider the added cost of hiring someone to follow her around to make sure she doesn’t mess anything up.
So what type of job would there be? Wearing stilettoes rules out anything with ladders. Actually they’re complete resistance to ever breaking a sweat rules out any manual labor job.
But guys, we know it might sound wounderful havng one of these babies on the mantle and keep her out of the workplace. But before you marry one of these Audrey Hepburn from “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” types, here are a few warnings.
• You can’t pretend that her crap is furniture like you do with your dog. And believe us, there will be crap everywhere after she moves in.
• Her parents, whom you’re hoping will die, have much better health insurance than normal people and will probably outlive you.
• Their aforementioned complete resistance to sweating rules out great sex you think you’d be having.
• You’ll actually have to shower. And we mean really showering, not just standing under the warm water dreaming of a morning without a hangover like you do now. That, of course, won’t be an issue for the many metrosexual men here at Pepperdine.
Actually, none of this will apply to many of you because we all know you won’t ever marry a woman. And if President Bush has anything to say about it, anybody else for that matter.
But for the sake of those of us who are legitimate targets for these female predators, please nobody tell them that we too have no incomes and are going to be bums. We enjoy feeling like stray pesos in Tijuana: everybody is trying to get their hands on us without ever stopping to think where we’ve already been.
3-31-2005