So many nuisances, so little space, one unanswered question: why would a man be there?

During this frigid season that can hardly be called spring, all students at Columbia are aware of the precious value of sunbathing time on the lawns. We are all depressed, dry, and pale, and need these days to remind us what life is worth living for. Hence, I take the fleeting moments I am able to spend with those sweet UV rays very seriously…

To have such insufferable creatures disrupting this time is a disgrace to the sunny lawn’s magnificence! It is not necessarily that the beloved lawns are forbidden from the recreational use of men, but they do not display the common courtesy to take part in this sacred lawn time. I will now outline some of the worst types of men I (unfortunately) continue to encounter on the lawns we all know and love.

The Shirtless Demon

This one literally looks like El Diablo himself, a sweaty, tomato-red, nipples-out demon. Find me one person who wants to see all of that, quickly, please. As if they don’t realize they are already inferior to the concept of suntanning and will burn within ten minutes of UV contact, they oil themselves up before coming outside, so they bake even faster. I swear, when I walk by them, I can hear sizzling sounds reminiscent of bacon in a frying pan. I’m also saddened to report that they are traveling in packs now, multiplying the horrifying vision and blinding me with their fire-truck redness.

The Performative Terror

He has wired headphones on, a She Comes First book, and a purse that he calls a satchel around his shoulder. He’s sitting alone, definitely not reading, strategically perched next to a group of beautiful women; there is an alternate agenda here. While I’ll be generous in saying there is a 12% chance his face card is decent because he takes better care of his skin than you do, he is the embodiment of evil. Even when he pulls some unreleased Clairo out of his ass, you must be strong and realize that it is all part of his devilish ploy to secure another two-week situationship. Stay woke.

The Unathletic, Spatially Unaware, Embarrassment

I feel the most anger thinking about these men, but I almost feel bad because of how insanely buns they are at every sport. Actually, I don’t feel bad. My ball knowledge is admittedly limited, but even I can tell you can’t throw for shit. I want to start this rant by noting that my friends and I always find ourselves a spot to sunbathe that is considerate, away from entryways, and distanced from other groups so that we may all gossip in peace. This is the bare minimum, and there is plenty of space to do so. So, riddle me this: you have an ENTIRE LAWN and are choosing to play Spikeball, soccer, football, frisbee, or some other obnoxious shit, so close that I can smell your B.O. wafting in the breeze. Not only that, but these guys are clearly not athletes of any significance because they can’t even finish a pass without the ball flying into our picnic setup or hitting me in the face. How are you going to be slow, inconsiderate, and ass? This is more to my point that the lawns could be for everyone if these men could muster up an ounce of decency.

I hate men on the lawns.

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