Love can be a dangerous game, particularly so when you realise that you can be involved in the most gawdawful relationship and not be aware of it until five seconds after you split up. You certainly can't rely on your friends to tell you when your affair holds all the promise of an unattended shopping bag emitting ticking noises in a tube station (although the way they jump out of the window everytime your paramour enters the room might be a subtle hint, if you weren't so blind). Therefore, in the interests of increasing the sum total of human happiness in the world by breaking a few couples up, I present a categorical guide to some of worst possible pairings. If you recognise yourself in any of the following portraits then please note: the rest of us hate you both with a passion.
The "SO-back-home":
For one term, the new student remains religiously faithful and true to their partner back home in Walsall. They hog the phone for hours, dribbling saccharine nothings and terms of endearment into the earpiece that you have to use next. They talk endlessly about their absent half at every opportunity until there isn't a single person on the whole campus who isn't bored shitless. This usually lasts until Xmas, when this loyal beau returns home and tells their beloved "I'm sorry, darling. I don't think our relationship can survive the strain of being apart so much. It's over." Words are often used to embellish truth and this particular phrase means "There is someone in my hall who I urgently need to screw"; if the relationship is not terminated at Xmas then it means "I am about to enter a phase of rampant promiscuity of which you will be entirely ignorant until visiting me one weekend and finding me shacked up with my neighbour, at which point you will mutilate my genitals with your own teeth."
"The Fast Movers":
Inseparable from the first day of freshers week, fast movers come in two varieties:
a) the mature couple, for whom the idea of getting off with any of their contemporaries is somewhat akin to paedophilia; and
b) the insecure neurotics, neither of whom could face life for two seconds without someone hanging off their arm - anyone who isn't actually lying down dead.
Academic Incest, or staff/student affairs:
This is particularly common in certain departments, although we won't mention Earth Studies. It is perhaps best summed up by the phrase "Raise your exam marks now, ask me how". Remember that although it may seem flattering to be courted by an older and more senior person, they can still possess the emotional development of a housebrick.
"My First Lay":
Two people who, with the help of several pints of beer, lost their virginities one night during a shared act and now cling to each other in pathetic gratitude like a "Love Is..." cartoon. This sort of immoral and irresponsible behaviour should be stamped out forthwith - after all, you wouldn't trust a DIY-electrician at the controls of a nuclear power station. If you wish to lose your innocence, be aware that there are any number of experienced professionals within the University who are always willing to assist in making the event both memorable and fulfilling, for them at least.
My First Lay couples usually part within a year of the Big Night amidst a cloud of unresolved doubts such as:
a) is it normal for the male partner to roll over, fart and zonk out after intercourse?
b) should the woman always sleep on the damp patch?
c) is thirty seconds well above average?
d) is five inches at least twice the average?
e) can you wash out condoms and reuse them three times in a night?
f) is sex with other people merely a way of experimenting harmlessly and not at all prejudicial to a genuine relationship?
The answer to all these questions is, of course, "yes" (apart from certain rare exceptions which modesty forbids me to name...).
"The House Couple":
Probably the worst couple to live with, or even be within a two mile radius of, this nauseating pair can always be caught mid-snog and completely unembarrassed (which is odd, because you're crumpled with shame) in whichever room of your own house you enter. The vigour of their lovemaking leaves four perfect holes in your own ceiling and disturbs your attempts at sleep or masturbation. Worse, when the rest are out, you can never be sure quite what they get up to (although you can take a fair guess) - a large dent appears in the kitchen sink; one of the arms of the sofa is broken; discoloured stains blemish the upholstery; the plaster is cracked all the way up the stairs (how in hell did they manage that?!).
Eventually though, the grunts and little feminine gasps become the noise of doors being slammed and screams of "F*ck off, I hate you!!", which in turn become gunshots or choking sounds. This is followed by digging up the garden at midnight and then advertising for a new housemate. In some houses, it is possible to experience this latter part without the messiness of the initial relationship.
"Terry and June":
So incredibly in love, but also so incredibly tedious. While most couples are working their way through "The Joy of Sex", with or without the actual text, these two are busy digesting "101 Exciting Quiche Recipes". The besotted looks which pass between them immediately induce an urge in onlookers to project vomit some considerable distance. They are in a rush to achieve two-kids-a-dog-a-cat-and-a-Ford-Sierra suburban paradise, when they can settle down to be the kind of parents that are violently murdered by their drug-crazed offspring fifteen years later. Better late than never.
"Charles and Diana":
Well, they must have liked each other once. But you wouldn't know that now. She tries to stop his weekly boozing sessions, which is quite ironic when she drove him to it in the first place and she often hits the bottle herself when he's not around. He affectionately refers to her as a "knackered old tart". She often lovingly caresses his testicles with her kneecap or, if she can't get that close, settles for throwing large kitchen implements. When they go out clubbing, he often goes home with other people and she only notices if she's not snogging with his best mate in the corner. Why do they still go out together? I know! It's because they're both so howling awful that anyone else with half a working braincell would run a mile!
"The Spread-a-little-love couple":
They have an "understanding": he sees other people and she sees other people. The net result is that whenever there's an outbreak of something viral that turns your genitals green, all roads lead back to these two. In fact, the local STD clinic has them both on pagers. They don't use protectives because there hasn't been a condom invented which can survive contact with the moist parts of either one.
Ade Rixon.