A few weeks ago, I was hanging out on the 5th floor of Sennott with my good friend Brian A. Krueger (known as the “Kruegler” to most people and criminal records). We were having a very natural conversation about the nature of Zeno’s Paradoxes when a stray cat suddenly exited from one of the many elevators. Kruegler, being inconveniently allergic to felines, acquired a runny nose.
I proffered him a tissue. Then, after Kruegler had cleared his sinuses, I wagered that he couldn’t toss his used tissue into a nearby trash receptacle — backwards, with his eyes closed, whilst imagining a 3D apple spinning — offering to Klarna him one hundred smackaroos if he could pull off such a feat.
To my shock and dismay, his (frankly embarrassing) toss behind him, which made it nowhere near the bin he was aiming for, rebounded off the wall and into one of the fourteen other neighboring trash cans. Had there always been that many?
As a Computer Science major, the 5th and 6th floors of Sennott Square are common locales to frequent. The elevators are fast and available, the classrooms are large and comfortable, and the temperature is controlled. While hallways can be winding, they are pristine, modern, and infinitely preferable to the catacombs of the hellish Information Sciences Building (a structure summoned into this world by a wicked sorcerer with poor floor management skills).
But recently, I’ve noticed that these floors feel more… empty than they once did. Sparse. Quiet. Fewer people and more… trash cans.
There are so many. So, so many trash cans. An unparalleled number.
Who has that much trash? These are the Computer Science floors. It’s all computer! What possible trash could these people have? Besides trash taste!
I made that joke in class to uproarious silence. My professor told me to see him during office hours to discuss my comedic prowess. Yet, at 4:15 PM on that very Thursday, when I showed up to his office on the 6th floor, no one was there. But you know what was?
You have to believe me. This is serious. They’ve begun to collude. They’ve begun to amass.
They’re growing violent. They’re preparing. They’re guarding our escape.
I gave an impassioned speech on this subject to my Public Speaking class, receiving a deserved standing ovation — by “standing,” I mean sitting, and by “ovation,” I mean absolutely nothing happening. Are you like them? Do you think I’m crazy? Unhinged?
If I’m so wrong, then what happened to the business school?
I think they’re on to me. When walking home, they blocked my path.
I feel surrounded. I think I’m next. Please. Stop them. While you still can.