GOOD GRIEF: Villanova students: a biological study

 The Villanova population lends itself to a wildlife genus all its own (and yes, that was some terminology-dropping courtesy of my core biology requirement). Daily walks between Tolentine, Bartley, St. Mary's and the Pit lend themselves to naturalistic observations of the species V. male and V. female. 

As a member of the latter, I will only reveal a couple of conclusions regarding my own. First, any amateur observer may note that many a Villanova gal prances around in the similar winter coat, sheep-skin boot and jean combination. 

The purpose of this uniform coalition has yet to be revealed, but speculation suggests that it is a chameleon-like adaptation mechanism, meant to be used against predators (more on them soon). 

Second, the V. female often gets a poor rap outside Lancaster Avenue boundaries. No cause has yet to be attributed, but in the game of evolution, I feel this may be a muscle-flexing tactic put in effect by our male counter-species. 

Still, the Villanova woman has the capacity to be a testy creature; crossing her in a hostile environment (Saturday night, female to male ratio 7:1) has severe repercussions.

That is quite enough about females, though. As one, I feel no need to divulge any confidential data involving our species' continuation and prime survival techniques.

It is time to explore the men, because behind every expensively clad Wild(girl)cat is the elusive V. male. 

For the boys, I have taken the time to compile a rough multi-level species hierarchy, hoping to shed light on such a fascinating system. 

The first and largest level of V. male is less of a category and more of an orientation — infused in approximately 80 percent of the male population during, coincidentally, orientation week. 

Behind secret walls, highly specialized orientation scientists bring the frosh boys in groups of four to 10 and sprinkle them with a dust so potent that it creates extra-durable chemical bonds between each member — bonds thicker than the fur on Will D. Cat's body. From that initiation on, said boys only venture outside of their dormitories if the pack has 75 percent or better attendance. 

They are a highly ritualized bunch that pick the same quadrant of tables in the dining halls, are assigned the same letter to paint on their hairless chests at every basketball game, always place the same inebriated snack order and refer to each other by the alpha and beta male-accepted salutation, "bro."

While being the dominating presence on campus, and thus highest on the food chain, has its benefits, competition looms close behind. Undergoing a whopping exponential growth over the last few semesters is the V. male: Wild(hip)cat. 

Most of his wardrobe is easily targeted by any nearby female as having been purchased from American Apparel or Urban Outfitters. 

His jeans and zip-up sweatshirts are equally slim-fitting, and his shoes are always the essence of cool. Some don the ubiquitous Rivers Cuomo frame, attesting the babe-magnet ability of those smokin' black horn rims. 

Come winter time the outfit changes slightly to incorporate brightly colored flannel and equally bright fitted hats, demanding direct attention for mating, clearly. 

Rounding out the three main food groups of men are the sparsely populated                        (not-so)Wildcats. 

On a daily basis the V. female will be unaware of the soft-spoken male who remembered to hold the door open as she was running into Connelly, the silent genius sitting a few rows away in her 8:30, the mild-mannered man who attends basketball games without a painted chest.