Love conquers all.
My dearest Altschul,
I have been looking for love all my life, and the moment I saw you, I knew I had finally found the one. Although your imposing stature can be intimidating, and whispers on campus declare you ugly and outdated, they don’t know you the way I do. If only they could see the Altschul I see, I’m sure they, too, wouldn’t be able to resist your magnetic draw.
People say our love isn’t real, that it isn’t possible we can connect so deeply despite being 35 years apart. But I don’t care if my parents don’t approve, or if you had long graduated college by the time I was born. Even though you were born in 1969 and I in 2003, we understand each other in a way that transcends generational boundaries. You just get me. Besides, age is just a number.
When I’m overwhelmed with the hustle and bustle of campus and need a safe place to hide away, you welcome me with open arms. As soon as I enter your glistening glass doors, a sense of serenity washes over me and I’m immediately at peace. I ponder my next steps—which of your three spacious elevators shall I use today? Upon making my decision, I enter my selected elevator and am whisked away at a speed that is truly unrivaled by any other elevator on campus. And when I need a private place to drop the kids off at the lake, I know I can venture deep into your labyrinth and find just what I’m looking for, even getting some education along the way as I skim the research reports plastered to your alabaster walls. If I’m feeling disconnected from nature in the concrete jungle, I simply gaze out your windows onto the sparkling Hudson, and I am fulfilled.
My darling, you have so much to offer. Each of your floors offers something new to explore, and I could spend hours within the confines of your walls without getting bored. Although you know I think every inch of you is immaculate, my favorite trait of yours is the little heaven you hide in your basement. You don’t judge me when I give in and order from Amazon or otherwise indulge in my capitalist desires. You just guard my purchases until I come and fetch them. I am eternally thankful for your support and unconditional love.
I know you’ve been feeling insecure lately because of campus gossip, and because others want you to undergo renovation, but I promise their words and plans do not reflect anything about you. No matter what you look like on the outside, you will always be the most beautiful thing to me—inside and out. I promise to stick by your side through the ups and downs, regardless of what’s thrown at us. This won’t break us down. I know we’ll only come out stronger on the other side.
Everyone thinks they can dictate our relationship, but this belongs solely to you and me. I’ll never let you go, my Altschul.
Altschul view via Bwarchives
@Anonymous Have you wondered why the designers of Altschul numbered the entry level as floor 2, while floor 1 is obviously a basement? The result is that the top floor of the 12-floor building is the 13th floor. Otis Elevator says that the superstition against the 13th floors are so strong that about 85% of their elevators installed in tall buildings skip the 13th floor. So why did the designers work so hard to put a 13th floor in Altschul?