Ladies: They're not all gay by May

Back from NYU in Prague and ready, for a moment, to stop dissecting the merits of steaming goulash and the personality quirks of the post-communist elderly (see last semester's "Prague Zombie" series), I want to try something new with WSN's opinion page. You are, in essence, at my mercy either way, but I think this'll be fun for all of us.

"Exorcise NYU" will run every week, and it will try, as hard as it possibly can, to look into, expose, and discuss the quirks of this university that you want to read about. For your part, submit queries, thoughts — feelings! — to dberes@nyunews.com with the subject line "Exorcise NYU." Maybe I'll even dig around the comments on this column to see if there's good stuff there. Your quandaries can range from the practical ("What are the chances that I'll contract the hantavirus from the mice that tickle my lips as I sleep in the Third North residence hall?") to the existential ("I've lived in Gramercy Green for a semester: Why do I no longer feel ... anything?"), or they can be real simple ("John Sexton's hugs"). Parents who have children who thirst for NYU might wonder, "Why does my daughter care so much?" The answer, of course, is "Jude Law's barely clothed, yoga-clenched ass flexing across the street from Hayden," but with "Exorcise NYU" we can, at least, explore the possibilities together.

Anyway, if you don't come up with anything particularly meaningful, I reserve the right to come up with my own topic, something that really strikes at the core of NYU. For instance, this week, the ever-enduring war the young women of NYU wage against what is perceived as a near omnipresent force, an undulating mass of sexual virility.

That would be "the gay male."

We've all heard it probably 17,000 times (give or take): "Straight NYU girls can't get a date because every dude is gay or taken."

I've heard it from my girlfriend before (indeed, I'm no exception to the rule), from classmates, and most often, from clusters of ladies who arrive to parties dateless.

So, the easy response is probably, "Well, maybe you can't get a date because you roll up to small social gatherings with five of your friends and spend the next three hours prattling incessantly about how you can't find a handsome beefcake in Tisch Drama to give you somethin' good."

Yet an easier response might be, "If this is really the most monumental crisis in your life, why not take a chance and try other options in this intimate little town we call 'Manhattan,' where I have heard, through the grapevine, there are even other colleges that might boast a more formidable sampling?" Both are logical, certainly.

But what I want to say is this: Frankly, most of us straight guys have it pretty hard, too. It takes effort to meet girls, let alone make a good first impression, while sitting on our asses with forties every Friday night blasting heavy metal music and playing Warcraft.

So ladies, please, remember: It's not all about you. Have some sympathy, please.

Damon Beres is the editorial page manager.