“In the olden times”, as my granddaughter might call my college years, all of the dorms on Western’s campus were designated as being either male or female. Girls had to be in the dorm by 11:00 p.m. through the week and 1:00 a.m. on Friday and Saturday. The guys had no restrictions. We came and went as we wished. I didn’t care for the system when I had to play by its rules, but later in life I’ve learned to appreciate those “olden times”.
There were a couple of days each year when the dorms were open and guests of the opposite sex could visit your room. There were two simple rules: 1) Doors must remain open at all times. 2) Everyone’s feet must remain on the floor. I lived in the dorm for one year. The rules for visitors to my room never came into play.
We couldn’t have cars on campus during our first two years. There were both exceptions and rule breakers, but options for personal transportation were limited at best. Most “dates” were confined to campus and the immediate area. Most destinations were within walking distance. Mixers, movies, sporting events, and concerts were common.
More studious couples attended lectures from “special guest lecturers” on “special guest topics”. I never attended.
Many times, especially during our freshman year, guys went out in small packs of two or three hoping to meet new girls. There was lots of looking with only the occasional “find”.
My friend, Gary, and I opted to attend mixers. They were held in one of the ballrooms of the student union. The entrance fee was fifty cents. Dancing was encouraged but optional. It reminded me of middle school. Girls stood around with other girls and some danced together. Guys peeled off individually, sized up a potential opportunity, and ultimately asked a girl to dance. If things went well, you danced several times. If they went really well you might walk her back to her dorm.
After the girls had to be back in the dorm, most guys headed back too. If a guy from a group ended up walking a girl home, a full report was expected. I don’t have a clue what the girls may have discussed, but the ultimate question for the guy was, “Did you get any lip?” Roughly translated, “Did you kiss her good-night?” It was a simple time with simple goals.
After one such night, Gary walked a girl home. When he returned to the dorm, the grilling began. Being a gentleman, Gary offered up few details of the evening. We’d ask questions but he was evasive with his answers. He never committed and often just smiled. Out of the blue one of the guys said, “You fox.”
The words were simple, but their meaning was clear. By being non-committal, he was being deceptive – like a fox. The name stuck. We started to call him “The Fox” or just “Fox”. While most of the rest of us were known by our last name, Miller, Wilke, Smith or Tebo, two among us had nicknames: first Fuzzy and then The Fox.