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If buying condoms from University vending machines is not already a unanimously accepted faux pas, I strongly recommend that it earn such a designation. I'm not sure if it's the idea of birth control being bought through a parentally funded FLEX account or the general annoyance of having to create naked small talk during the lapse in activity that results from such an inconvenient purchase, but there is something decidedly unappealing about buying sex supplies from the same venue one uses to obtain a Snickers (although as long as you're already there, you might as well get the Snickers too).

There's also something emphatically brassy about a purchase that declares to the world (or at least your Doritos-seeking hall-mates), "I'm going to get some!" but dares anyone to acknowledge it. Compare this to the experience of girls emerging from section holding high heels in their hands, with all onlookers expected to assume that basketball shorts and a oversized sweatshirt are a fashion statement. If you plan on having sex at Duke (or expect to meet people who do), anticipate getting cozy with pink elephants.

For example, consider the magnetic force that ensures a stroll across the quad will send you straight into the path of an unsuspecting past hook-up. Even if your body count is modest (i.e., you don't get laid that frequently), you will still invariably run into the wrong person at the wrong time. Try getting home the morning after a more recent romantic experience and the probability doubles.

However, what is worth noting about these meetings is the frequency with which we choose to completely ignore the other person. It is socially acceptable, and perhaps even encouraged, to play with your phone or pretend to have something in your eye as you walk past someone who you let unhook your bra just a few weeks ago. One friend, in the face of an approaching drunken mistake, elects to simply pivot, turn and stride casually in the opposite direction. Sometimes a nod or a mumbled acknowledgment is deemed appropriate, depending on the degree to which the respective parties regret the event. Although this whole exchange can seem ridiculous and primitive, it's significantly easier than trying to make small talk with someone who might not recognize you with clothes on. Ultimately, the choice between offering a faint acknowledging smile or giving someone the opportunity to inform you their name is actually Matt, not Pat, should be obvious.

Ignoring the obvious creates a code of conduct that helps mitigate all things awkward. As boys close their bar tabs for the night, they draft casual texts about the possibility of "hanging out" because they can't (or at least shouldn't) send messages that say "Wanna bang?" Basic biological principles predict what happens on the dance floor when bodies are in motion and contact, but girls are willing to assume it's just a wallet.

We all maintain we're a lot dumber than we (hopefully) are. Buy some condoms, and we'll chuckle that you simply mis-entered the number for strawberry Pop Tarts.

Brooke Hartley is a Trinity sophomore. Her column runs every other Thursday.