Overnight Guests

What’s a Father to Do? Send his daughter to college to find a man only to discover that there are no men

A father has a simple, time-honored plan. Pack the minivan, drive the daughter to a respectable college, and wait for the inevitable phone call announcing she has found a solid young man—someone with a firm handshake, a future, and the ability to change a tire without consulting YouTube. He waves goodbye with the quiet confidence of a man who believes the campus still stocks reliable husbands the way it stocks textbooks — someone from a family born in the same weather their family was born in.

Months later the first report arrives. “Dad,” she says, “there are no men here.”

He blinks. “What do you mean, no men? I saw several walking around during orientation.”

“Those were boys,” she explains patiently. “They wear pajama pants to class, call their mothers three times a day, and consider ‘adulting’ a competitive sport they are currently losing. The ones who do shave have somehow managed to make facial hair look like a cry for help.”

He suggests she look harder. She does. She finds young males who communicate exclusively in memes, whose idea of providing is splitting the Uber Eats bill, and who treat commitment the way most people treat expired yogurt—something to be avoided until it becomes a science experiment. One proudly announced he was “working on himself,” which turned out to mean leveling up a video-game character while living on instant ramen in a dorm that smelled faintly of regret.

The father tries the classic advice: “Look for the ones who open doors.” She replies that the only doors being opened are the ones to the campus counseling center after yet another group-chat misunderstanding. He mentions careers and ambition. She counters with stories of seniors still majoring in “figuring it out” and minors in “vibes.”

In the end the father sits on the porch, staring at the empty driveway, wondering whether he should have invested in a time machine instead of tuition. Perhaps the real lesson is that college still produces plenty of degrees—just not the kind that come with a man attached. What’s a father to do? Buy extra tissues, lower his expectations, and hope the next generation invents a major in “basic adulthood.”