It’s cuffing season here in Morningside Heights, and Bwogger Nicki Camberg wants to let some special someones know how she feels.
To the flies who live in my shower,
It was just a few weeks ago when we first met. Me, clutching my overflowing toiletry caddy and tripping over my shitty shower sandals and you, straight up chillin on the ceiling. I shrieked in surprise! Who were you? I was just trying to wash away the smell of SEAS students not wearing deodorant in Butler, and I was by no means expecting to make a friend. Since enduring the elevators during NSOP, I have gotten accustomed to meeting people in small confined spaces and can recite my name, hometown, intended major, and pronouns like it’s nothing, but I found the flies unwilling to respond. I just wanted to know what school they were in! Were they from upstate New York, Manhattan, or maybe even New Jersey? I shrugged it off, knowing that there are just some people you can’t make friends with, but they didn’t offer me the same politeness. As I turned on the water, ready to scrubadubdub, y’all went wild. I was hurt that I wasn’t invited to their silent rave, even more so because they were having it in front of me, but it was fine. I totally most definitely know someone who lives in EC and like can sign me in so it’s no biggie, I’m fine. I go to so many parties like all the time it’s a nonstop rager over here. As I stood under the subpar and lukewarm pressure of the Brooks shower, I made accidental eye contact and found myself lost in the rich red of their eyes, the way their little claw things slurped up the water into their weirdly small mouths. This was the start of something new.
The next day, I clamored on back to the bathroom. I would have used the other shower, not wanting to seem too forward in this budding flirtationship, but someone, who I suspect was from a non-Brooks dorm was using it. Curse the never-ending robbery of our showers from Sulz residents! They already have air conditioning, and now they want our showers?
Anyway, I stepped in, smiling slyly and sneaking peeks at the flies when they weren’t looking. They looked so buff, they must go to Dodge. I could sense they were a little shy, but I didn’t let that stop me. I started talking about my day, the classes I accidentally slept through and how much I love the Ferris Potato soup. They didn’t take the bait! I wanted the flies to ask me to Ferris with them for potato soup, but they just stayed silent. Never did I wish for someone to be more like the singular man in my Barnard discussion sections, to just talk and talk and never stop, but luck was not on my side that day.
It’s been about a month now, and I’m worried our relationship has grown static. Columbia Crushes denied my post about them and all my friends are telling me to get over them, but I can’t. They are all I think about day and night; they’ve captured my heart and I’m worried there will be no escape.
So, if the flies are reading this, please meet me in the shower tonight. I’ll be dressed in my finest pink bathrobe, ready and willing to love you. I’ll wait, for however long it takes, as there is something here and I know you feel it too.
Image of me and the flies walking off into the sunset from the Bwog Archives