During my four years at UCLA, I’ve learned a thing or two
about the facilities here. Take the Sunset Canyon Recreation Center
for example, where swimming lanes are at a premium, the tennis
courts are mostly empty in the early afternoon, and the
amphitheater is seldom used for concerts. What I didn’t
realize is that this remote campus hub has been billed as a top-10
pickup spot for college coeds.
My freshman orientation counselor, resident assistant and
friends all failed to clue me into this fact, so needless to say, I
was a little surprised to see it intimated in a recent Sports
Illustrated on Campus feature.
Not wanting to miss out on everything UCLA has to offer, I made
a point to spend an afternoon poolside at Sunset, taking note of
all the courtship that would likely ensue.
Twenty minutes in, my notebook was still blank. There
wasn’t a single stray frisbee that floated into a circle of
sorority sisters. There wasn’t a single surfer dude adding a
new number into his cell phone. It really made me question what I
had read.
Bored with my people-watching, I approached a few students to
see if I had picked a bad day to come. All were receptive toward my
advances, but none bought into the flirtatious vibe that supposedly
existed.
“We’ve never seen anyone pick up someone,”
said third-year Anton Petrov, a lifeguard at the main pool.
“People come in with their own groups and stick together.
There’s very little interaction.”
Nathan Jour, a swimmer and sunbather, was surprised that the
coquettish reputation even existed. He seemed to think the
expansive lawn atmosphere had a lot of potential, but it was as
unrealized as a Steve Lavin-coached basketball team.
Third-year Erin Kuaty, a frequent sunbather, said that she had
once been approached by a guy who asked about the book she was
reading, but indicated that those kinds of situations were few and
far between.
On the rare occasions that there are pickup attempts, they have
usually been unsuccessful. Last summer, third-year Maiko Ueda was
leaving after a nice relaxing afternoon in the sun when she was hit
with the cliched line of questions normally reserved for fraternity
parties.
“He asked if I went to school here and what my major
was,” Ueda said. “Then he asked for my phone number,
but I said I had a boyfriend. It was kind of creepy.”
Ueda added that she hasn’t been back to Sunset since,
which is too bad since her experience seems to have been quite
atypical. By and large, the swimmers and sunbathers are more
concerned with getting a workout or tan than a date. My decision to
approach students with a tape recorder and notebook was probably
the closest attempt to a pickup effort last Friday.
The whole experience made me realize how glorified UCLA can be
made out to be. I’d imagine some pale, scrawny freshman in
Wisconsin reading the Sports Illustrated on Campus article, feeling
bitter about those West Coast kids who get dates just by sharing
their sunscreen. It’s a nice little myth, but one that Sunset
veterans never really subscribe to. Even some of the older patrons,
whose forays don’t venture beyond the pool itself, recognize
that there’s no real pickup scene.
“It was much more so in the old days,” said Tom
Leiser, who attended UCLA as a graduate student in the 1970s.
“Students are more serious minded now. The whole facility is
less utilized than it used to be.”
Sunset boasts a lot of qualities. Surrounded by tall pine trees,
it gives its users a chance to briefly escape the urban hustle and
bustle. For the athletically inclined, there’s a beach
volleyball court to complement the two swimming pools.
Sunbathing is by far the most popular activity for students.
It’s complemented by magazines, music and some
people-watching ““ not pickup lines.
E-mail Finley at afinley@media.ucla.edu if you think there
should be cannonball competitions off the high-dive at
Sunset.