Ode to a New Student from an Old Room

by Nathaniel Moore, managing editor


Well, it’s time for another semester to begin. The cross-plaza shrieks have begun, and the weary whirring of the elevators has resumed.

I should introduce myself: I’m Culby room 416. Summers are always so lonely and empty for me with no one but the other rooms on the floor to talk to and nothing but the standard furniture to wear.

Last semester I had to say goodbye to one of my students because he graduated and is now studying for his master’s degree at Wheaton, which   But at least I have a new freshman coming in this week. His name is Sean and he comes from Michigan—if I had hands I would show you where on the mitten, but I’m sure he will show you soon enough.

Apparently he is studying communications, so I hope he doesn’t bring a bunch of plants into the room—they tickle me dreadfully—or, heaven forbid, one of those essential oil diffusers. Those things are like room cologne and we all know who uses too much of that—my other human, David.

David is a junior pastoral major. He’s a good guy but he likes to prop the door open, which to a room is like those guys who unbutton their shirts one more button than their pectoral masculinity permits, and once he spilt an entire cup of coffee all over my floor and it burned me straight through my carpet. He never could get the stain entirely out, but his RA never knew because it was covered by a wardrobe during his room check.

David is dating Sarah from Houghton 216 and sometimes I and HH-216 swap notes via their backpacks.  —we are just friends and besides, she is older than I am, which is saying something. I’m not as young as I used to be. I get chills and hot flashes sometimes, just ask my people, they are always mentioning how hot or cold I am.

I always like it when the floor is full of people; it’s fun to gossip with the other rooms about your crazy dancing or lamentable outfits. Just remember, there is nothing chill about Netflix, we love it when you sing praises, as we must resort to worshiping simply by existing, and whatever you do, don’t use nails or tape on our walls—it hurts us dreadfully.

 

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