Inside the Hidden World of HBS's Singles Clubs

From the earliest times of recorded history, secret societies have been a natural and integral part of human civilization.

Over the last month I infiltrated a number of HBS secret societies, otherwise known as “singles clubs”. I uncovered startling evidence about the origins, structures, secrets, and rituals of bodies which have hitherto been concealed from the public gaze.

This report comes at huge personal sacrifice; I may never get another date at HBS. But it is time to get the truth out.

The “Referral Club”
The Referral Club is a women’s only club. The modus operandi of the club is “referral parties.” What are these you ask?

One club member explained: “Girls all have nice guys in their lives that, for what ever reasons, they would never date. Some of these reasons include:

1. Too close, much like a brother, so kissing him would be incestuous
2. Dated him but broke up and are still friends
3. Too short, etc.

Well, one girl’s trash is another girl’s treasure. So, we round up these nice guys, throw a party and “refer” them onto our friends.”

Readers, this club is sickening. Upstanding men from this campus, your classmates, are treated like pieces of meat. They are passed around like case write-ups. The women running this club are predators exploiting unnatural gender ratios at HBS. It’s as unethical as raising the price of Coke on a hot day.

The “Hot Babes Singles Club” (HBS)
You can subscribe to this HBS club if you are single, or more precisely, “very, very single!” The objective of the club is to “decrease the numbers of our members in two years.” I wish these girls all the luck in the world. But personally, I’d like to know what is wrong with being single. I mean, over the years I’ve grown to like it quite a lot. Then again, I haven’t had a whole lot of choice.

The “Floppers Club”
The Floppers go one step further than the HBS Club. The application form requests photos; only the beautiful need apply.

Given the club’s admissions criteria, there was no way that I was getting in. Consequently, I sought out a whistleblower. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to get a word out of anybody. I can only assume that what goes on is pretty special, and those inside don’t want the word getting out.

The “Naked Club”
The Naked Club was difficult to crack; it is only by sheer fluke that I gained admittance; and it is only by the grace of God that I have emerged from the dark recesses of its depravity.

I woke up one Sunday morning about a month ago with a belting headache. I vaguely remember vodka Red-Bulls, the song “Back That Ass Up” and a pink rah-rah skirt. As I rummaged though my medicine cabinet for Advil, I received my first contact from the club. On the bathroom mirror, in red lipstick, was the phone number “617 275 XXXX.” When I phoned, a young woman explained that I was invited to join “HBS’s most exclusive secret society.”

On entry to my first naked party, I was directed to “get my gear off.” Now, don’t get me wrong, I love getting naked and going the streak, but it’s normally on impulse at a summer cricket match or in the early hours of a Sunday morning. At the naked party, I was noticeably nervous. However, a few ales brought my journalistic mission back into focus. At the heart of it, the naked party was just like any other party, except there were a few pink bits flying around and some naked girls in stilettos. There is a serious side to the club… by the looks of those at the party, it’s a recruiting ground for elite venture capital firms.

A couple of weeks ago I noticed a few guys around campus wearing red socks. Initially, I assumed that they were supporting the Red Sox in the playoffs. Not so. Apparently, wearing red socks is a green light for flirting.

As it turns out, our classmates are sending out all types of signals. We just need to be savvy enough to “pick up” their meaning. Here are a few signals I’ve decoded:

Pink and green in combination: Will try anything.
Third button undone on a rugby jersey: Looking for a long-term relationship.
Charity arm bands: Green, red and yellow, like traffic lights; white for virgins/undergrads.
Pointy boots: As one RC explained in a marketing class earlier this year, the more pointy the shoe, the more “up-for-it” the wearer.

October 31, 2005
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