By Rose Bialk
Picture this: you are standing in a Manzi communal closet, I mean, kitchen with your roommate. You are both a little buzzed because the fakes you ordered back in August finally arrived and you both spent a fortune at Nectar. Your roommate, in an “a-ha” moment of stoner genius, suggests you both make a “hear-me-out” cake, revealing your LC crushes to one another.
For those unaware, this is a cake that has been decorated with photos of one most unhinged or niche crushes — ones you would have to vehemently defend to your friends, hence the “hear me out.” Now you can show this article to your parents, and they will actually get it.
After adding the hot dad they saw helping to move in their next-dorm neighbor, every single barista at the Dovecote, the sexy trad goth girl in their poetry class, their professor and the campus living desk representative whose hand accidentally brushed theirs when giving your roommate their temporary lockout key, the weed takes over and you pass out dreaming of hot steamy sex with your campus crushes. Any spooning is neither here nor there.
Following the cake, however, your eyes have been opened. Those papers were more than a joke — your roommate has begun to exhibit a strange series of symptoms that you can only assume is them having the hots for their professor.
Their top artist on Spotify Wrapped is Lana Del Rey
Their top-used app is Moodle
They keep referring to their favorite teacher as their “meow meow”
They laugh the loudest at the professor’s unfunny jokes
They have an Altoids tin pocket shrine filled with photos of that professor taken from their LinkedIn (they are 10 years old and blurry)
They throw their flat-ass 10 dollar Target body pillow across the dorm at you every time you dare to say “C’s get degrees”
They are going to office hours, like actually going, not just saying they want to go and then taking a nap and snoozing their alarm and missing them
They are utilizing the SQRC
And the Writing Center …
And two free hours per class per week of SAAB tutoring …
… and even the Keck Interactive Learning Center
They have started listening to “dad rock” as a way to get to get their profs’ music references (What the fuck even is a Fugazi?)
They are putting printer toner in their essential oil diffuser because it reminds them of a freshly-printed class reading
They now actually understand said dad rock jokes
They are playing with their jewelry
They are putting up their hair
They are touring the facility
And picking up slack
They have started getting into fights with the students who left low reviews on their “Rate My Professor” page
You caught them shifting to Hogwarts using a Snape x student script
Their AO3 tags — age gap, bad grades, hurt/comfort
They got REALLY into old man yaoi … like REALLY REALLY into it
They started drinking from the garden hose to really nail down that sexy lead-poisoned stare
They are reluctantly crouched at the starting line, engines burning and turning in time
They make 2016 Tumblr Cinnamon Roll soft-boi cat ear edits of their professors to post on YikYak
They started spelling “Folks” as “Folxs” (I will fucking get you)
They growl at any student who raises their hand to ask a question
They have peed on their professor’s desk to “mark their territory”
On a similar note … they turned their side of the dorm into an “Omega nest”
They are attempting to seduce their American History professor by showing them how fast they can rap “Guns and Ships” from Lin Manuel Miranda’s seminal 2016 masterpiece “Hamilton”
They are attempting to seduce their English professor by singing the entirety of “Epic: The Musical” by Jorge Rivera-Herrans
They start calling their psych professor mom/dad
They have started sublimating
They be HACKing on my P ‘till I HARK
They start wearing a pocket protector (nerd)
They are building a religion
They are building it bigger
They are widening the corridors and adding more lanes
They are standing on a jagged rock above a sea of fog and overlooking the scenery to try and evoke the eternal sublime
They are trying to bring back twee
They have decided to save themself for marriage
They emailed their professor to thank them for a scintilating class discussion, but it started getting really touchy-feely, like to the point that ending with “best” felt weird
If you or a loved roommate are exhibiting these symptoms, please contact the Health Center and the Backdoor ASAP.
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