Let’s see ? it’s 3 a.m., all the bars are closed, your friends passed out an hour ago and you’ve exhausted your personal supply of beer, hard liquor and even those nasty wine coolers your parents left when they came to visit. What to do?

Oh, wait, what’s that you see hanging out of your purse/pocket? No, not the cell phone, it’s really never a good idea ? but it does have that all-too-convenient scrolling list of anyone and everyone you’ve ever met.

Maybe just one quick call to that hottie you met last week at The State ?

Alcohol and college students have never mixed well in terms of rational decision-making, but with the increasing popularity of cell phones, students can now reach debilitating levels of embarrassment with the push of a few buttons.

Back when our parents were stumbling through the college years, it was not so easy to wake up those you felt a strange desire to “talk to” at 4 a.m. Who wants to dial a rotary phone when he can barely see the floor?

But now all you have to be able to do is smash a key on your little Nokia, and before you know it, the wonders of modern technology have awoken that sleeping sex god from last Thursday.

The outcome of these late-night libido liberations is not usually as painless as the phone call itself. In most cases, that evening’s lucky candidate will be passed out already, leaving the horny dialer to deal with the pesky task of figuring out whether the answering machine has beeped or not, so that he or she can leave a charming message to be discovered the next day.

Many drunk dialers are too inebriated to wait for the message to beep, and will all too often leave messages that begin in the middle of a sentence: “? your hot little booty, and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to just get together for a little bit and hang out, just popped into my head, wondered how you was doing, so sexy ?”

This incoherent flow of babble will often be saved on the receiver’s phone for weeks to come, only to be played to their closest friends and random people next to them at the bar that weekend in fits of laughter. The chances that someone will actually listen to your message and call you back in a state of uncontrollable lust are slim to none, but this does not faze the thousands of college Casanovas plowing through their nighttime minutes every weekend.

Even worse than leaving concrete evidence against yourself on random strangers’ phones are the truly disastrous times when you dial up that ex who broke your heart to confess your undying love to him or her as soon as the bars close. As if committing social suicide in front of total strangers weren’t bad enough, now you have re-opened a door that should have been barred shut long ago.

These weepy, desperate attempts to ignite an old flame always come off as pathetic and almost never result in a passionate embrace in the warmth of a former lover’s bed. Trying to sound cool and casual while slurring every third word and sniffling is next to impossible and should be avoided at all costs. Trust me, your high-school boyfriend/girlfriend is NOT going to be impressed that you “just happened to be thinking of him or her” at 3 a.m., and you will only feel like a complete ass in the morning.

On the rare occasion that you dial up someone who is a) awake at 4 a.m., b) sober enough to answer, c) lacking caller-id and, most importantly, d) open to suggestions, the drunk dial crosses the line from possible embarrassment, to the much more amiable possible booty call.

These sporadic instances of late-night lust are few and far between, but if you happen upon one while drunk and horny look out! Assuming the person you called is interested, it is now time for you to pop that breath mint, douse yourself in the finest cologne/perfume available and make your way to the fortunate friend’s apartment.

Although the next morning’s walk of shame is sure to be embarrassing, this is not the time to worry about that.

Who cares about tomorrow; right now, my friend, you are getting laid! When you wake up blurry eyed and bushy haired in bed with Big Red from your economics class, don’t be angry, just relish in the wonder of drunk dials! And of course, when weathering the stormy climate of drunk dials, never go out in the rain without a raincoat.