Intense tremors were felt rippling through Smith Union early Thursday afternoon, leaving students and staff scrambling for cover. The source was not a shift in Earth’s tectonic plates, but rather the sheer force of the Men’s Lacrosse team’s flip flops.  Tyler Davis ‘26 made the terrible choice this morning to wear flip flops to class, blissfully unaware of the power each one of his steps would have.

The choice in shoe is a popular one amongst many of the male sports teams, ensuring that you can hear them approaching, no matter how far away you are. In the past, the shoe has served as an excellent indicator for when a team is approaching the line at Throne, allowing the humble NARP to get a hamburger patty or two as before the linebacker behind them takes five.

This afternoon, however, the reverberation of a flip flop was a sound of destruction, not of warning. With each step he took, the lack of support between the shoe and Davis’s already large foot created a shockwave capable of knocking over desks and creating a sizable crack in the IT Hub. With electrical wires knocked loose and the entrance to Fast Track blocked, chaos erupted throughout Smith Union. Serena Wiley ‘29 was one of the unlucky few to be in Smith when the earthquake struck.

“It was one of the scariest experiences I’ve had during my 4 weeks at Bowdoin, even scarier than whatever they’re giving us at Sunday dinners.” Wiley explained that she and her group of 9 other friends blocking the hallways with couches had to form a makeshift shelter to protect themselves from the falling debris. “We were able to make a fort out of chairs and tables,” Wiley shared, “thankfully we had just made a C-Store run so we had enough food to hold ourselves over until the rescue teams arrived”. 

In an incredible act of self-restraint, Shawn Cook ‘26, has decided not to flirt with any first years—for a month. 

“So many guys see these impressionable young minds and think they can go full steam ahead pursuing them,” Cook said, “what they don’t understand is that it takes a whole month before the age gap isn’t much of an issue.” 

Controversially, Cook argues that it is unethical to make moves on a first year while they are still adjusting to life at college—a period, he says, lasts through September. 

“But once people are picking out their Halloween costumes, it’s honestly fair game,” he elaborated. Cook also brings his positive energy to the admissions office, where he works as a tour guide. 

“It’s very rewarding to see fresh faces on campus, knowing that some of them will one day be my peers,” he said. He even hands out his phone number to touring students in case they have further questions about Bowdoin.

While Cook has greatly enjoyed his time at Bowdoin, there is one change he feels is long overdue. In October, he intends to break up with his sophomore girlfriend of one year stating, “things were just getting a little stale between us, and she never comes to my hockey games.”

Something isn’t right about this. I’ve been doing this eating thing for a long time and I’m pretty sure a spoon ain’t a plate. I could be wrong, but I think that guy I saw walking into Moulton with just a spoon in his hand might not have swiped in. Which is crazy because Cody was right there and he catches everything. I suppose the guy could just really really like Skyr, the Icelandic yogurt. And I suppose he could carry a day’s supply of Skyr in the right pocket of his cargo pants. And I suppose he could swipe into Moulton just to grab a spoon so that he can inconspicuously transport the Skyr from his pocket to his mouth while enjoying the sun at one of those tables outside.

But that seems rather unlikely. 

I guess the question is would we blame the guy with the spoon. I mean, in hunter-gatherer times, we would probably reward that kind of resourcefulness. Imagine if Cody were a fierce lion instead of just a friendly guy. We would surely honor the agility and courage it would take to evade such a beast armed with just a spoon.

Alas, few see it this way. We are too steeped in our malicious collectivism that we look down upon these would-be heroes. Or at least I think so—I heard somebody use the term “malicious collectivism” today in class and thought it sounded smart. The point is we care too much about the common good and not enough about the guy that just wants to hit a double Monday lunch and still have enough swipes for supers.

It’s been a minute since I’ve seen my buddy Jack “Jiggins” Higgins. Where’s he been? Come to think of it, a lot of my buddies are missing. Lowkey like half the junior class. Where they at? Someone should really look into this. I miss the laughs. I miss cracking open a few brews with my buddies on a Thursday night. I also miss cracking open a few brews with my buddies on Wednesday night. And Tuesday night if Jiggins is having a good week. I miss all the ruckus in HL—the clownery ratio is all off. I miss the nights when everyone would cover themselves in shaving cream. I miss the friends I love.

I tried to talk to Italian Studies Professor Alejandro Cuadrado about this but he wasn’t of much help because I don’t speak Italian. Philosophy Professor Max DuBoff stared deep into my eyes and asked me what it means to categorize something as part of the junior class and whether our existence precedes our essence. This is shaping up to be one of the great mysteries of our age, right alongside what sank the Titanic or who built the Empire State Building. It’s extra tricky because some of the best sleuths in the junior class, including Posie “The Nosy” Cabaniss, are also missing. So I really don’t know where to turn. And on top of all that, I’m going abroad next semester. So if we don’t get to the bottom of this soon I might not get to hangout with my buddies at all.