Bewilderment
· 22 October 2004 ·

The top floor of the tallest residence hall on campus is deemed a “quiet floor”. Its quietude is the equivalent of a really intimidating/understocked library. And what’s more, the residents are predominantly deeply religious. Methinks they’re serious about it, too: there is speculation as to Bibles hanging in bathroom stalls like so many other secular bathroom readers.

With this taken into account, you can imagine my gaping maw of an aghast expression when, entering an elevator as they exit, I hear from two crisp, gelled-hair, shiny dangling crucifix and all Christians, “The squirrels around here are really friendly.” And then an utterly serious reply, “Yeah. My barehand kill count is up to two.”
Exchange of high fives between them.
Shut elevator door. Cigarette burn in screen corner.
Roll credits.

Tangentially, if you ride an elevator between multiple floors up and down four times or so without exiting, after a little while you can’t tell if you’re moving or not. A caveat to this little experiement is you must be able to ward off claustrophobia.

Written by Izak Elvrum

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