Memo from the Paint Crew

As the summer comes to a close, classes begin, and we treat our addiction to Atrium White paint, we have some notes we thought we’d share.

You were stingy this year. Last year, from the pennies, nickels, and dimes you left behind, we collected about $120. This year we only made $37.18. Last year you left us, on a shelf, a big jar of coins, and this year the cleaners got to some of the rooms before we did. But still.

We made a barbecue, bought five big cartons of Mike and Ikes, and four packs of Sour Patches with the money.

Besides money, you left a lot of things behind, through which we could tell a lot about you. We know that you liked going around barefoot. We know that you were in a relationship by the used condoms and love letters. We know that you had good perfume. We know that you liked to cook. We know that you smoked pot. We know that you didn’t. We know that your room smelled bad. It was through no fault of your own; the ceiling was moldy. We know that you lived in Osilas, you’re most likely a guy, who once tried to kill a bug with your shoe. We hope you killed it.

From the diary and notes you left behind we know that you were struggling with anorexia. You left a will and a sheet with passwords for your social media and bank account for your loved ones to access. We hope you are all right.

We know that you’re an Asian female, with black hair. On April 21 you woke up before 8:43 AM and, being health-conscious, you bought a whole wheat sandwich.

From your overflowing cat litter box, we know that… you had a cat. We also know that you had a toddler.

We know that you lived on the second floor of Hill House. You went to see either the movie Jackie or The Founder on February 21st. You went to a TEDx event. You wore lenses, and you liked H&M and Macy’s. And you were a big coffee or tea person.

We know what day you were born on and we know that you’re from Blank, California, from the passport you left behind. We know what your friends and boobs look like from a photo booth picture you took. And we know you were attracted to a guy named “J”.

We know that you lived in Westlands. You’re Jewish but you’re not really a practicing Jew. We know this because of the Mezuzah on your bedroom doorframe: You hung it up upside down, on the wrong side of the doorframe and on the front of frame instead of on its side where it’s supposed to be.

You left behind a jar with notes to your mom (we could be wrong, and it’s your grandma or aunt instead). From the notes, we know that you wanted to quit ballet but your mother persuaded you not to. You are grateful for that. We know that you had your first date in 8th grade. You went on a date with “J.S.” You went to a movie theater and had your first kiss. We know that you were once quote-unquote a menace in the grocery store when you demanded that your mother buy every single cookie. And we know that your mother was in a serious car crash.

If we had just spent a little more time, we would have been able to create a formula that would have predicted how many parties you had in your room/apartment and how many people were there.

What we don’t know: In your room in McCracken, you had two pieces of paper with housing assignments on them for this school year; one was for MacCracken, Room 26, the other for Lynd 14-A. Did you change your mind and switch assignments, or is the second one a friend’s who dropped it in your room? We would love to know what happened and which is the real one. :)

You left a lot of stuff behind that we made our own. We tore apart the laundry load of clothing you left behind and used it as rags. Your ten-dollar Amazon gift card that you left behind was used to buy a phone charger, but it was quickly returned. Reason given: Item no longer needed. Thank you for the box of tampons, cookbooks, silverware, ramen, sorbet, mini-Snickers, and the skateboard.

 

Now we have some awards to give out.

The Biggest Toenail:
Found on the 6th floor in Hill

The Fattest Toenail:
Summer Resident on the 4th floor in Hill House

The Dirtiest Room nominees are:
Room in Slonim Woods, for The Most Garbage Left
Room in Garrison, for The Gooiest Floor
Room in Slonim House, for its Smoking Cavern Walls
Apartment in Hill, for its Party-Residued Walls

The Winner is: Room in Slonim House

The Worst Rooms to Live In:
Some of the triples in Garrison and Taylor, we feel your pain.
A closet-like room in Lynd has been nominated, but it doesn’t come close to the triples.

Terms we have added to the Webster® Dictionary include:
Flashing: (verb) used to describe grime that still shows on the wall after a coat of paint has been put on. Sometimes also referred to as “bleeding through.”
Turtle: (noun) another name for the rodent squirrel.
Where’s Jorry: (question) a question asked when pondering the locality of a quiet and elusive individual.
Pealochosis: (disorder) The irresistible urge to peal paint off the walls.

 

Final Notes:

There are bugs stuck in your wall between the layers of paint. We were afraid of the bugs, so we just rolled over them.

According to a recent study of ours, there is little to no correlation between your gender and how dirty your room was. But your gender did determine how many times you smudged your lipsticked face across the walls.

Ladies and gentleman, when hanging things up in your dorm room, please do not use tack or foam adhesives. Instead, use tape, staples, or pushpins. Courtesy is contagious and it begins with you.

Ladies and gentlemen, for your safety, please do not hold the car doors open while the train is in the station, and please do not lean against the door.

 

For comments and complaints, we have elected Mariel as our unwilling representative. Your painted room would not have been possible without the support of X-Ambassadors, Mo, Scott, Dungeons and Dragons (the game), Anthony, Radiolab, Kid Rock, and the relatively cool sun; without them we would have gone insane.

Featured image by Zin Douglas

 

Allie is a terrible dancer.

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