Flings? During spring? Groundbreaking. The question is, what if you’re single and there’s no one to mingle with during this season? Being alone and thirsty AF during this “traumatic” period sucks. Here are eight times that living the fling-less life is too motherflippin’ real.
When you develop a crush during the commute to uni
You’re on the 891 bus. An absolute dreamboat hops aboard. The problem? You’re a back seat bandit, goddamnit. So you’re making intense eye contact with the back of his head. Isn’t that the key to wooing a mate? Yes. Yes it is. The chances of seeing that person’s head again though? Zilch.
When you feel like the lone wolf on campus
You’re doing the fling-less walk of shame. Is this an episode of If You Are the One or what? And what do you see? PDAs. PDAs everywhere. At Level 9 of Main Library, at the Quad Lawn – you name it! Must. Leave. Immediately.
When you picture yourself in another life
Admit it, fam – you imagined scenarios where you bump into a potential fling mate. Where? Well, IDK, maybe in the never-ending line for the 891 bus, or as you hike up the Basser Steps. Or, even better, on UNSW’s Love Letters. Unoriginal plot twist: you wake up and realise it was just a dream.
When pining for “a mate” is at its peak
The struggle is at an all-time high when you scroll down UNSW Love Letters infamous Facey page. You try to find any mention of your name, going back when your feet first landed firmly on Main Campus. The result? Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Like, really, really at its peak
Your friends suggest marrying a sugar daddy. Yes, we love a guy whose bank account consists of commas and decimals. But, you know who we’re after? A hybrid of Rami Malek, Oscar Isaac, and Richie from The Bachelor. Can you get a fella who ticks both boxes? Probably not, tbh.
And lastly, when you acknowledge the dreaded truth
Ok, UNSW is probs experiencing a drought in Flingsville. Maybe it’s a sign you’re not ready to take a page off a best-selling Nicholas Sparks novel. Well, for now at least. Until next semester, or next season, you filthy animals.
By Ryan Bautista.