Dear Grad Student: An Exchange
Dear Grad Student,
Hey, I got your email version of asking a young woman to help you move a couch into the back of your van today. Needless to say, I’m flattered, impressed, and horrified.
First, an apology. Yes, I saw you crouching in the azaleas outside Solomon Hall while that tour guide discussed the duties of a TA with his group of college hopefuls. And yes, I was pretending to not see you. I’m not judging you, yet, but I just thought I’d mention that eavesdropping while stalking the latest undergrad unfortunate enough to gain your attention isn’t a great way to find out your job description.
Are we going to pretend that sitting in a room by yourself is a foreign concept? We all know how you smell, dude; like copy machine toner and whatever’s left in the vending machine at 4am. Not exactly the musk of a man who’s out there grabbing life by the collar. Although it is good to know that you’ve been honing your Facebook stalking skills so I have something to contribute to the police report when that tasty co-ed in the front row you eye-fuck habitually “disappears” and turns Sociology 1044 into a Dateline special.
She was going places, grad student. But you just couldn’t help yourself.
So I guess what scares me the most is the idea of being alone with you in that closet-office you’re huddled in like a gargoyle that just came to life, cruising craigslist for used hunting knives and burlap sacks. I especially enjoy how you have to walk through, like, 10 other offices before you get to it, and when its raining you get a really intense “bottom of the well” vibe from the leakage meandering down the walls.
Might want to dial maintenance, Buffalo Bill.
I am sorry that I’m making it so hard to have sex with my corpse. That’s got to be frustrating when all the other serial killers are bragging at the bar about hanging a cheerleader on a meathook and you just sit there, wondering what is keeping these sexy college kids out of your office. You’ve done everything right! You’ve asked them to meet with you, you’ve asked them to meet with you again… you even drew some inspiration from the “Southland” finale last night and are now keeping a cop costume in your closet… just in case.
But it might be time to throw in the towel, my man. Nobody’s buying it.
I just don’t see how getting skinned alive and chewed on by the local rat horde is going to send my C- skyrocketing. You’re right, “the semester is coming to a close.” The fact that I’ve managed to keep all my limbs attached to my body means it’s been successful. Any sort of passing grade is a bonus.
See you in my nightmares!