ABSTRACT: Binge drinking is popular among frat boys (straight males aged 18-24). Frat boy binge drinkers can be spotted almost anywhere on or near a college campus, and their overconsumption drinking tends to magnify the loud, obnoxious, and downright stupid behavior that even sober frat boys are predisposed to engage in. Frat boys usually travel in packs and are especially visible when frequenting "frat bars," places that cater to the dumb boys by serving plenty of frat favorites--particularly Jägermeister (a toxic 70-proof liqueur made from over 50 herbs, roots, and fruits).
HYPOTHESIS: The subject who will be ingesting "frat boy" drinks is an intelligent and successful 38-year-old gay male. We will call him "Dan." Subject "Dan" is the editor of a weekly newspaper, and the author of a widely syndicated sex-advice column. When subject "Dan" does drink, he reports, his limit is generally two, and his preferred beverage is the vodka tonic. I hypothesize, however, that after downing shot after shot of Jägermeister and pint after pint of beer in frat bars across this city, test subject "Dan" will put his homosexuality behind him, embrace a frat boy mentality, and seek out the comforts of female sex.
MEANS AND METHODS: I observed subject "Dan" over a four-hour period on a Friday evening. Subject prepared for the evening with a vodka tonic. At 6:30 p.m., subject appeared normal.
We arrived at the College Inn Pub on University Way, and were disappointed by the lack of frat boys. Subject "Dan" promptly ordered a shot of Jägermeister and a pint of pilsner. Subject sniffed the Jäger, made a disgusted face, and gulped it down, exclaiming "Oh, good god!" immediately after consumption. (Note: Unschooled in bar behavior, I accidentally ordered a shot for myself; apparently saying "That's fine" and nodding after a companion orders a drink means "I'll have the same," and not, as I intended, "That will be all, thank you." Subject was forced to drink the extra shot.)
After a half an hour, subject "Dan" initiated conversation with bartenders about frat boys and their behavior. "I don't have anything against them," "Dan" said, before needlessly adding, "Some of the best sex I've had was with frat boys!" The bartender at the College Inn Pub suggested we visit Tommy's Nightclub, a bar of choice for the frat and sorority crowd. Subject "Dan" was poured a parting shot, this one on the house, upping the running total to three shots of Jäger, a beer, and a vodka tonic.
We entered Tommy's and "Dan" quickly took a seat at the bar, striking up a conversation with the attractive bartender, Susie. She recommended a 252 with a Car Bomb chaser (1/2 oz Wild Turkey 101 and 1/2 oz 151-proof rum, followed by a shot of Baileys Irish Cream dropped in a pint of Guinness stout). Subject hesitated, staring at the filled glasses in front of him. "I'm probably the biggest cocksucker puss this bar has seen in years," subject "Dan" announced, clearly intimidated by the drinks in front of him.
Subject downed the shot, dropped the Baileys in the beer, and began chugging the now-foaming concoction. Within two seconds subject "Dan" stopped and looked as if he would vomit. As we left Tommy's, I asked subject why he was unable to finish the drink. "Baileys Irish Cream is what my grandfather drank," he replied. "Drinking that made me feel like I was kissing my grandfather as he foamed at the mouth."
By 7:30 p.m., subject "Dan" had consumed three shots of Jäger, a beer, a 252, and half of a Car Bomb. Subject was drunk. The walk to our third destination, Tiki Bob's Cantina in Pioneer Square, proved this when subject knelt down to tie his shoe and instead stumbled to the ground. "You know you're drunk when you're gay and you can't get on your knees," subject said. Despite consumption of numerous "frat boy" drinks, subject seemed fixated on his own homosexuality.
Tiki Bob's was crawling with college kids. Subject "Dan," despite continued awareness of own homosexuality, began to take on the frat mentality, clamoring to try any new drink the bartender suggested--like a Liquid Cocaine (1/2 oz 151-proof rum, 1/2 oz Goldschläger) and a Bull Blaster (Red Bull with Jäger).
Desperate and drunk (like a true frat boy), subject "Dan" began to look for company. "There's a whole table of 'em!" subject noted, pointing at a corner booth filled with college kids. He ran over and introduced himself.
(see Figure No. 5) Students from Eastern Washington University, the University of Puget Sound, Edmonds Community College, Cascadia Community College, Gonzaga University, and a Christian institution (whose students asked that their school remain anonymous) excitedly suggested more frat bars and drinks. It was here that subject made two new drinking buddies, "Dr. Gonzo" and "Raoul Duke." Dr. Gonzo and the Duke advised subject that it didn't matter what a frat boy drank, as long as he got laid at the end of the night. Subject bought each new friend a shot of Maker's Mark, and drunkenly tipped the bartender $31.
We left Tiki Bob's at 9:15 p.m., heading toward Polly Esther's. Subject announced his desire to stop at the Lusty Lady. "I want to see some tits!" said subject.
At the Lusty Lady, subject got change and disappeared into a booth. Two minutes later, subject reemerged, grabbed my arm, shoved quarters into my hand, and insisted that I enter the booth. Subject reported finding the experience of looking at naked women behind glass "fascinating" and "bizarre," but not "arousing." Subject mentioned semen on the floor of his booth. The presence of semen in the booth did not arouse him, "Dan" reported.
With 11 drinks in his system (and his bladder), subject "Dan" insisted we find a Seattle Weekly newspaper box so he could "take a piss inside of it."
Shortly after 9:30 p.m. we arrived at Polly Esther's to rendezvous with sorority girl subject "Bradley." Subjects both downed a vodka Jell-O shot within the first 10 minutes; not long after this, each had a Buttery Nipple
(see Figure No. 2-4). "Who drinks this shit?" subject "Dan" shouted. Dancing and antics ensued between the frat boy subject and the sorority girl subject until it was time to move on to the final location, GameWorks. En route to the car, subject "Dan" climbed on a dumpster and pretended to be eaten by the Pac-Man character painted on the side of Polly Esther's.
Upon sighting the other drunken subjects at GameWorks, subject "Dan" exclaimed, "I looked at pussy!"
After making sad attempts at a number of video games (and briefly passing out in one of GameWorks' plastic racecars), subject was indeed very drunk. Subject was, however, no more heterosexual in his desires or actions than he had been at the beginning of the experiment.
CONCLUSION: Frat boy drinks can make anyone into an asshole--but not a heterosexual.