Even at the ripe age of twentysomething, we have all had to make some important decisions by now. Choosing a major is no easy task (I still don't know what ILVS stands for), nor is choosing a roommate or what shirt to wear as a dress on Saturday night.
There is one choice, however, that greeted me with a smack on the butt at orientation and has been slapping me around ever since, forcing me to choose my loyalties again and again as people continue to get drunk and ask the age old question: Team Oral? Or Team Cheese?
Now, I'm not saying that oral sex hasn't been making millions of Americans happy daily since its invention in 1967. I'm not saying it doesn't feel fantastic, or that we all shouldn't be ... well, you know. In this world, where we can have as much of either as we want (in most states, that is), I can't say that I've ever turned either down.
Nevertheless, in that cruel alternate reality ruled by a single ultimatum, created and immortalized by the warped minds of Tufts students, I would choose easily if I had to. Like a mother with a favorite child, what I am saying is this: It's not that I don't love you, oral sex. I just love cheese more.
Why, you ask? I've heard this from many a shocked, disturbed, even outraged individual. I think this overzealous rage on behalf of Team Oral may stem in part from our first days at Tufts (or in the woods, naked), when this question was posed to one and all, with the implicit assumption that everyone's life experience was substantial and varied enough to make an educated decision.
Anyone who has ever been an 18−year−old or been friends with one can tell you that at least half the time this assumption is wrong. Mix clandestine inexperience with peer pressure and maybe a little alcohol, and you've got a recipe for a bunch of Team Orals who will do anything not to admit that they couldn't possibly have any idea which they prefer.
Now don't get me wrong, there are plenty of Team Orals who speak with a seasoned authority about their decision. "You just haven't had the right oral sex," they tell me, shaking their heads sadly. I firmly disagree — they just haven't had the right kind of cheese! Seriously — there are so many kinds of cheese.
How many kinds of oral are there? I mean, there are a few variations if you are willing to get creative, but even some of those are pretty well−worn territory, and the others tend to lose the forest for the trees.
Cheese is everywhere in all its glory, by which I mean that every kind of cheese is delectable, and you can get it literally on every street corner (as for oral ... were we all so lucky).
Bottom line? Oral rocks, but cheese rocks harder.
I promise you that, unless you are tragically lactose intolerant (in which case, go Team Oral!), cheese will be there for you at times when oral is not. Cheese will compliment every meal and be sure to maintain variety to keep you excited. It is an equal opportunity source of pleasure, it doesn't expect anything in return and you can eat it anywhere — in public, with your parents, on the go! Cheese doesn't care if you spit or swallow, and you can get it delivered to your house. Cheese will always be good, even if you just picked it up at a bar at 2 a.m. In fact, it will probably be better that way. Can oral say the same? I think not.
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Jessie Borkan is a senior majoring in psychology. She can be reached at Jessie.Borkan@tufts.edu.
