The Sexual Diary of a Woman Obsessed With a Yale Law Student

Every week, New York Magazine’s Daily Intel gives aspiring voyeurs a candid peek into the life of one New York City resident. This week, the feature chronicles the misadventures of a 20-year-old East Village woman and her obsession with a Yale Law student.

The long-winded tale begins the same way all great novellas do – with a scene of masturbation. Having found a quick tension relief, the woman then heads off to a party in honor of a Yale Law student.

There, she finds the shindig swarming with pretentious Yalies, all of whom enjoy the sounds of their own voices -- which can be loosely interpreted as a form of non-sexual masturbation.

11:05 p.m.: Party is okay. Talk to some fellow Ivy Leaguers who spurt intellectual justifications as to why they're using their education to make exorbitant amounts of money for themselves rather than bettering society.

Here, the reader receives their first glimpse into the inner psyche of the average Yalie – self-centered, pompous and arrogant. But, the true foray into their mentality begins when the woman meets her soon-to-be obsession, the Yale Law student.

11:37 p.m.: Introduced to acquaintance's older brother. He mentions something about opera, and I feign interest because he's pretty cute. He then proceeds to quiz me about some esoteric English composer in order to make me sound and feel like a total idiot. Determine that he probably wants in my pants.

Ah, yes – impromptu opera quizzes are always the best way to pick up women at a party (see also: questioning their intelligence, which this Yalie seemingly does as well).

In case you do not see where this is going, let’s jump ahead to day seven and the story's anti-climactic conclusion…

10:45 p.m.: After playing Jewish geography and boring me to death about corporate law and litigation, he suggests we head up to his bedroom to "watch TV." He can barely find the remote before we're on top of each other… Things are good, but I make an executive decision to stop before we go too far. Hope this will increase the chances that he'll call again. He agrees to resume watching TV as long as I keep my shirt off.

 

12:10 a.m.: He puts me in a cab but doesn't offer to pay. This bothers me. Am also bothered by the fact that he was more interested in talking about himself than getting to know me. It was really more of a hookup than a date, come to think of it.

Hmm – a stingy Yale Law student who is only concerned with himself and has never seen breasts before so he must resort to prolonging the experience through backhanded trickery?

Truly, I am shocked.

So, ladies, next time you find yourselves in a party with members of the Ivy League run the other way if one starts quoting Wagner or quizzing you on musical theory.