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It was the end of my sophomore year. I had been a GDI for three semesters too long before pledging in the spring. Naturally, I wanted to live in the chapter house the next year and continue to coast my way through the rest of my undergrad before having to enter the “real world.” As I was packing what sparse belongings I had in my apartment, I finally had to confront my bed (futon). While it had served me well for the year, Ol’ Paisley, as I called her, was on her last legs.
A year of neglect, that had only been amplified by pledging during the home stretch, had left her perpetually damp and musty just like that gym shirt you keep wearing without washing. She held some great memories for me, such as passing out holding a box of 7-11 chocolate covered almonds (one of my favorite drunk foods) followed by waking up covered in melted chocolate and regret, and all the mediocre sex she’d been there for. But, alas, Ol’ Paisley had to go.
On move-in day, my dad and I unceremoniously threw her onto a massive trash pile in the street. That night, after settling into my new room, I had to figure out where I was going to sleep/bone for the year. At last, I had an epiphany: To hell with beds, I’m getting a motherfucking hammock! Not that cheap-ass yard hammock that your neighbor occasionally laid in during the summer, either — I went all in and ordered an ENO Doublenest, which is pretty much a giant parachute.
Was this stupid? Yes. A total impulse buy? Yes. Did it turn out well? Hell yeah.
First of all, this thing only cost me about $100 total. That’s already cheaper than most bedroom sets. Also, your hammock gets gross after a marathon weekend or weeks of neglect? Roll that bitch up and throw it in the washer then hang it back up to dry. They’re also comfy AF and great for your back — literally the best sleep I’ve ever gotten. And you can’t roll out of them or fall out of them when you’re wasted.
Now that we’re through the more objective reasons why hammocks are dope. Let’s get to the real questions. Are hammocks cool? Only if you make them cool. My entire chapter, rightfully, thought I was (am) an idiot. But no one can deny how comfy these things are if you try one out. I’ve literally woken up lying waist-deep in a closet because someone stole my hammock. But beyond all the fru-fru HGTV interior design and ergonomics BS, I know there’s one question on everyone’s mind:
Can you fuck in it?
Yes, yes you can.
This was one of the first questions I needed answered before I pulled the trigger on this. What I found was that the ancient Mayans were alpha af and slept, relaxed, and fornicated in hammocks for centuries. In fact, fuck the Kama Sutra — that book you tried one weird position from once and then tossed it. The Mayans even had a list of different ways to get freaky with a Hammock
So yeah, that’s why I’m going strong into my second year in a hammock. It’s cheap, easy to clean, comfy, a fun novelty, and you can get weird with it.
Bonus: Asking a girl who’s already giving you googly-eyes, “Hey, have you ever had sex in a hammock?” works 100% of the time about 50% of the time, which is still better than your average.
Bonus #2: Get a beanbag to go with the hammock if you give no fucks and wanna get straight up ’70s-Ron-Jeremy-with-a-shag-carpet weird with it..