‘Linking Groups…I Remember Those,’ Sophomore Says While Taking Long Drag of Cigarette

Late Wednesday night, dozens of first-years gathered around Straus common room to hear the wisdom of their elder. As the clock struck ten, their chattering slowed to silence.

In this case, and literally no other, the elder in question was Jay Dead ‘26, a sophomore floater in Kirkland. “Turn the lights off,” Dead snapped at the crowd, as he reclined on a Cracker Barrel rocking chair in the center of the room.

“Back in my day,” he began, lighting his smoke in the darkness, “you could have a friend, say. Now, that friend might have a friend who had seven other friends you’d never met. And if you wanted,” he paused to take a puff, “you could have those friends live close, but not so close you’d ever meet them.”

The frosh murmured in awe while he coughed. “But wait,” one of the tiny voices ventured, “you really never saw each other? Even at the d-halls and stuff?”

“No, little one,” said Dead, with a knowing smile. “I would never eat in Winthrop. That place smells like ass.”

The freshmen sat somberly, letting the weight of his words sink in like the droplets of sprinkler water sinking into their shoulders. “Get back here!” called Straus proctor Noel Fun. But Dead was already gone.