Somewhere, off in the near distant stacks, the enormous weight of several thousand letters and words fell resoundingly to the floor. My head snapped up with vertebrae breaking quickness. As I looked at the puddle of drool on my open book, I knew instantly that quitting the crew team had been the right move. I groaned at the enormous cramp in my neck, and glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed that I had been sleeping. Aside from the clumsiness of the book re-stacker, everyone in a two-study carol radius was similarly sacked out on various laptops, sheets of paper and books.
I checked my watch, and decided that my pillow was more comfortable than the treatise that I was supposed to be reviewing. I repacked my bag, and began to trudge back to the dorm. I walked past the darkened campus buildings, through the underpass, and past the food court in mid-week study silence. Just as I could see the half-lit windows of my ugly dorm, a thunderbolt of noise erupted.
“You, sir, are ferociously ugly!” The voice roared with more than a hint of humor behind it. I stopped, and stared in utter stupefaction at the building. It was as loud as a public announcement system. “Yes, you! I said ferociously ugly! U-G-L-Y! And are you eating flies with that open mouth? Because…” Inexplicably, it paused to think up another snappy retort. “Hey baby! Can I get off on your digits?” The last line wasn’t directed at me. It was addressed to the short, startled girl who had almost ran into me because I had blocked traffic on the path by stopping conveniently in the middle. And then it hit me. The similarity was too uncanny to be a coincidence.