According to the law of unfavorable averages, when you lay a stranger on a night out, they’re going to be hot, not or sort of. The Hot Creature is an endangered species, normally accompanied by an equally stunning Hot Creature. The Not Hot Creature is, well, not hot. The Sort Of Creature is also known as the BOBFOC: Body of Baywatch, Face of Crimewatch. The BOBFOC is the sexual species that wet dreams (wet with tears) are made of. That’s the problem with The Sort Of Creatures: How do you get rid of one in the morning?

They lure you into their traps in the dim lights of a grimy house party. They rub their hot body against yours as they creep past, and before you know it, you’re on a condom hunt. In the acidic morning light, the day after you got laid, your hookup is a bigger fail than your F in Physics last semester. Hooray for the 25 percent of freshmen who are virgins, according to a March USA Today article by Michael Bruce, co-editor of College Sex.

Don’t blame yourself if you f**k a BOBFOC. They hunt you, armed with a collection of disguises. What you mistook for come-to-bed eyelashes are now spidery road kill on your pillow. That sorority girlwore so much fake tan last night that four hours of sex sweat transformed her into Michael Jackson. You were so taken with what’s-his-name’s ability to bench press you mid-session, his missing front tooth snuck past your radar.

In dealing with a BOBFOC who wants you the morning after, adhere to Britain’s mantra in World War II: ‘make do and mend.’ Girls, lick those rippling abs all morning, but don’t let their lips near your mouth. Men, if your lady friend has a horrific mug shot, suggest doing it doggy style. If you avoid the fact she has a unibrow, you can both enjoy the improved penetration. If your hookup suggests wearing a bag on your head, don’t stick around to humor them. Repeat, ‘I am as HOT as Angelina’ 100 times on the Slocum Heights walk of shame.

No matter what a BOBFOC’s level of deception may be, you have no right to yell, ‘What the hell, I thought you were hot!’ at the letdown in your bed. Recently, a 2011 graduate wanted to both shout and weep when last night’s ‘smokeshow’ was ‘hideous and her nose was all over the pillow.’

But there is one exception for when rudeness is fully justified. If you think you’re the victim of an STD, act fast. Head to the health center to get treated, head to Tops’ Market to buy a 40 pack of Trojans, then head to Facebook to plot social-media-based BOBFOC revenge.

Identification of your personal BOBFOC potential is empowering. If your body is something to be proud of, your knucklehead just needs careful makeup application or dreadlocks. If you’re hot from the neck up, but you’re sporting the Freshman 15, you need to go and invest stocks and shares in Archbold. It’s open until 1 a.m. most nights. No excuses. For The Hot Creatures, all I can graciously say is, ‘You lucky (expletive).’ If your body and face are criminal, however …

Never fear. One person’s poison is another person’s honey pot. Brutal superficiality only lasts as long as string-less sex with your BOBFOC. Once you love him, maybe it’s nice to know you can hang your North Face on his nose. Once you love her bug collection, does it really matter that she boasts more than a passing resemblance to your pet mongoose? And for everyone who has either laid a BOBFOC, is a BOBFOC or wants a BOBFOC, take inspiration from John Mayer and Rascal Flatts. If the body’s a wonderland —ride it all night long.

Iona Holloway is a junior magazine journalism and psychology dual major. Her column appears every Wednesday. She can be reached at ijhollow@syr.edu. 

Published on January 17, 2012 at 12:00 pm