Rating Stuyvesant Couples!

Take a deep breath. What’s approaching may be the worst nightmare for most teachers and students, but it’s the sweetest of dreams for a lucky few. So now I bring to you, lovely reader, a chance to analyze and critique the wonderful types of relationships that we are blessed with the sights, scents, and sounds of every day. Join me now in a purely wholesome deconstruction of the wonders of high school romance.

Type 1: The Touchy Type

You animals disgust me. I don’t know where or how you got the idea anybody wants to see anything you two do, but it needs to stop. I cannot escape it. I feel as though the second I scan my ID card in the morning, I’m greeted with couples of huggers that have no regard for the surrounding populace. How am I supposed to do homework for my 17 AP classes in the cafeteria when I’m facing two people sprawled out over three chairs, rolling and tumbling over each other? Have you seen the sophomore bar? I haven’t, because it’s literally covered in voracious masses of these. Anyway, 0/10.

Type 1-B: Hand-Holders

I’m cheating already because this is really just a subcategory of Type One, but I really feel that this issue merits its own discussion. If one forced the Touchy Type couples not to be stationary, this is what they’d get 99 percent of the time. I am not inherently against minor displays of affection, but when you make it everyone else’s problem, I get triggered. Hand-Holders literally take up most of the hallway. It’s not like you’re standing off to one side, no—you stand right in the middle, moving at approximately two miles per hour, forcing everyone to either go around you, walk into you, or limbo under your outstretched arms. And besides, it’s not very safe, is it? I’m pretty sure Ms. Ingram sends an email every week politely asking you to do precisely the opposite of what you actually do, and you’re just doing her dirty like that? I don’t think the bonds forged from your love can protect you against SARS-CoV-2. You get a concerned unsafe/10.

Type 2: The Couple That Lays Across The Entire Width Of The Hallway Near The Fourth Floor Lockers During Eighth Period

This is when you take your standard Type One couple and crank up the public-annoyance meter to the max. I feel the need to ask you two specifically to stop. Some kids just want to get to gym, you know? It depletes your emotional capacity when you have to physically lunge over people to get to your locker. Every. Single. Day. 0/10. Not even a question.

Type 3: The Rumor Mill

This one goes out to the attention-seekers among us. This might be cheating again, because you guys aren’t really a couple, are you? You just want to get your names in everyone’s mouth, maybe spike up your Instagram followers. Well, your dirty tricks won’t work on all of us. A lot of us just don’t care. The fact that I’m even giving you this attention right now makes me upset. 0/10.

No, actually, I’m not done with you. I bet that one of you two actually wants to be a real couple, maybe one of the hand-holders or hallway nuisances. But you have zero play. How unfortunate. -3/10.

Type 4: Too Loud, Man

We get it—you enjoy each other’s company. Now stop hurting my eardrums. Between you two, there exists a toxic positive feedback loop; as time progresses, the noises coming out of your faces increase in volume and, somehow, also in number. Whether it’s a 10-minute long giggle fit or unintelligible hollering sparked by whatever reason, walking past you two guarantees that you miss at least 10 seconds of the song you had playing in the AirPods hidden under your hair. 2/10. The only reason you have two and not zero is because one of you once disrupted my Computer Science class. Consider this the weakest “thanks” the soul can muster.

Type 5: This Is Below Me

At times, when I walk around the school and go into my classes, I meet very intelligent, well-spoken students. Their knowledge might even lead me to better myself, improving my daily life. Now, imagine the exact opposite of this.

I often find that the couples you think are perfect for each other complete each other in the worst possible way, especially in high school. Maybe it’s because they’re both obsessed with the Communist Manifesto and strut around blaring the Soviet Anthem, tacitly assuring each other that their behavior is entirely justified. Others wear matching cat ears or “I Paused My Game To Be Here” T-shirts and reek of Cheeto dust. Sometimes I have to hear an exchange of high-pitched baby voices, meows, or other bizarre sounds, and I die inside.

I worked hard to get into this school and for what? I get to hear people meow and scream? I’m not angry, just disappointed. 0/10.

Type 6: Bow To Your Monarchs

The previously listed weird couples are usually not the most popular duo, and a lot of couples aren’t like that. Flawless social media pictures, revolutionary fashion styles, and more, these two are the King and Queen of the Stuyvesant social life. If you are these two, you’re very confident in your physical presence, and your influence certainly spreads throughout the community. But that’s the problem—everyone low-key hates you. This sentiment is birthed mostly out of a jealousy of your greatness, which a lot of people want a taste of. You are probably aware of this unfortunate circumstance, but you don’t seem to care. If anything, it fuels you. You might be a little narcissistic, but that never hurts anyone. I respect the hustle. 5/10.

Type 7: “I Don’t Even Know Who You Are” —Thanos

If everyone were like you two, I think my life would be a little more enjoyable. This type of Stuy couple is the type that doesn’t openly present themselves. They don’t need PDA to get along. Their relationship is stable enough that they do not need to openly seek validation from others. And the greatest thing about this couple is that I don’t know you. Stuyvesant is a big school, so there may be some couple somewhere that lurks in the shadows. Do these couples actually exist? I don’t know. But the possibility that they do keeps me going. Your existence is lovely and pure. 10/10.

What a wholesome way to end off our list! Enjoy post-finals Valentine’s Day everyone! I hope you enjoyed my social suicide! Stay safe!