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The Ghoul Pool

Spoiler Alert: Nice Girls Don’t Always Finish Last

By Donna L. Roberts, PhD (Psych Pstuff)Published 3 years ago 4 min read
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The Ghoul Pool
Photo by Jacob Bentzinger on Unsplash

They say sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. But sometimes people are just cruel. And sometimes kind can win out in the end.

Among many acquaintances my freshman year at university, I made friends with Kathy.

Struggling to negotiate our way through the college social scene we both briefly considered pledging for a sorority.

Pledge season was full of the usual array of festivities. Week 1 was where you could sample the various houses at their parties, meeting the sisters and getting a sense of the atmosphere and unique personalities. At the end of the night if you were interested you left your card letting them know you wanted to pledge with them. During Week 2 the sororities and fraternities got together for combined parties inviting back their choices of the potential pledges.

Like generations before us we waited anxiously for those invitations.

Surprisingly Kathy chose one of the most elite and highly sought after sororities. It didn’t seem like a good fit to me but she was insistent. I didn’t want her to be disappointed but I was doubtful they would choose her. She was just not a good fit. Not their type.

Kathy wasn’t your average sorority girl stereotype. She wasn’t a party girl. She was studious. She was kind. She was fashion conscious but she wasn’t runway thin by a long shot. She was curvy. Very curvy. Unfortunately she was in an environment where curvy was not “in.” Kathy was beautiful inside and out. I just didn’t think she was choosing a crowd that could see that.

So we were pleasantly surprised when we both received invitations for the combined party of her chosen sorority and its associated fraternity. I was still skeptical, but I was happy for her.

“Who’s your date?” she asked excitedly.

“My date?”

“From the fraternity. Who is the date on your invitation? I hope it’s as good as mine. I hit the jackpot. I got Preston.”

There was no fraternity brother listed on my invitation. I was concerned. Was it an oversight? Was I second string?

Later I learned, the truth was far more sinister.

I asked around concerned about my lack of being paired up with anyone. What I found out was shocking and unbelievably cruel.

It turns out only some were selected for “dates”. These chosen few were part of what the fraternity ominously called their Ghoul Pool, an annual tradition.

The Ghoul Pool was a contest whereby each brother paid their fee and invited the most “ghoulish” date they could find, hoping to be voted the winner and collect the spoils.

By Michael Discenza on Unsplash

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to hurt Kathy’s feelings but I didn’t want her to walk into such a cruel trap. I debated for days about how to circumvent the party.

Finally on the day of the big event, as she was tearing through her entire wardrobe to pick just the right ensemble, I told her what I knew. I suggested we not go to the party and instead go to a movie together. But she would not be swayed. Despite hearing about the set-up she was determined to go to the party with her date.

I begged her not to go fearing the night would end in tears. But she insisted.

She said she was going to make the most of this date with Preston.

“I have a date with the cutest, most popular guy on campus. I have the opportunity to show him just what a cool and interesting person I am. By the end of the night he will want to marry me,” she predicted.

So I went with Kathy, fully expecting to have to pick up the pieces by night’s end.

At the party groups of people whispered in corners about “the contest.” Throughout the night I heard random comments about the various contestants. Toward the end of the evening I saw Preston being high-fived and congratulated. Apparently, thanks to Kathy, he had won the Ghoul Pool.

I kept watching Kathy, waiting to step in to do damage control if need be. But she seemed to be having a great time. I don’t know if she overheard any of the comments about the contest but if she did, they didn’t seem to detract from her enjoyment of the party. At the end of the night as we were about to leave Kathy leaned up and gave Preston a peck on the cheek. The crowd clapped and whistled.

Kathy and I never spoke about it again. Neither one of us pursued pledging that year. Over time we drifted apart as so many friends do.

Years later, one bright spring morning I was headed to Starbucks on my way to a job interview and I ran into Kathy waiting outside the café. We exchanged pleasantries and I congratulated her on her beautiful wedding band and obvious pregnancy. She was glowing, as the cliché goes.

As I was about to make my way toward the door a handsome man came out with two coffees in hand.

“You remember Preston, don’t you?” she chirped.

He smiled broadly, put his arm around Kathy and handed her a caramel macchiato.

By quan le on Unsplash

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About the Creator

Donna L. Roberts, PhD (Psych Pstuff)

Writer, psychologist and university professor researching media psych, generational studies, human and animal rights, and industrial/organizational psychology

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