Not everyone believes me when I say I live in a house with eight girls. Or at least they think I'm gay. But no, I'm a straight man living in a house with eight girls.
If you know me, this doesn't come as a surprise. I usually have more girl friends than guy friends. I've never gone to a guy friend's house for the weekend, but I've seen at least six girl friends' houses.
And all of this has been completely platonic — lots of late night chats and study sessions and dinner dates. No hookups. No forbidden love drama. I had a long-distance girlfriend throughout most of college. But now I'm a senior, and I'm single for the first time in two and a half years.
You may wonder how eight girls would feel comfortable living with a single, straight man. As I told a friend's hulking, overprotective boyfriend last year, "I'm Griffin, and I'm probably the least threatening man you'll ever meet." I'm short, I'm personable and I'm easy-going. And I'm not too creepy.
Over the summer I told a friend from home that I was living with eight girls.
"You are either the luckiest son of a b---h in the world, or the unluckiest son of a b---h in the world." We have yet to come to a conclusion on that debate.
But being the only man in 86 Bromfield Rd. means I get a perspective on life few men are privy to. I get the girl's perspective through a man-filter. And I hope to impart a little worldly advice to all of my readers. At the very least you'll hear some fun stories.
I will say that my eight housemates are awesome. They're beautiful, talented and smart. They're gorgeous, accomplished and intelligent. They're stunning, skilled and savvy.
Which brings me to my first lesson: compliments.
Being single and living with eight breathtaking young lady-friends has offered an opportunity to explore flirtation without fear of rejection or awkwardness. Or, at least, I don't feel awkward.
I feel like I've angered a few of my cute housemates with apparent hyperbole and redundancy. But hopefully they all realize that compliments are intended to make someone feel nice and appreciated. If I've learned anything about compliments, the one piece of advice I could pass on to you is how to take them.
One of my friends takes compliments better than anyone I know. All she says is "Thanks, Griff!" and then carries on with her conversation. Done and done. Declarative, simple, and polite.
Some girls ask, "Thank you?" then start to giggle. As if it's a question. Should I take that as a compliment? Yes. One of my housemates laughs uncontrollably when I compliment her. It's not a joke. I think you look pretty. Take it. Make it your own. Enjoy it.
I didn't use to compliment people this often. I thought that telling a girl she looked nice was some form of verbal cheating. Now I'm embracing this ability, making the most out of it. If someone puts that much effort into looking nice, they deserve a little acknowledgment.
Frankly, I push the limits to see how far I can go. I'm like a toddler in this way. I'll keep going until you force me to stop. But remember: I'm not too creepy.
It might be as simple as this: I was away from Tufts for so long, from my spring semester abroad through my long summer in Los Angeles. And now that I'm back, I actually like my housemates and I've remembered what I missed about Tufts.
So they deserve a few compliments.
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Griffin Pepper is a senior majoring in political science. He can be reached at Griffin.Pepper@tufts.edu.
