One quick afternoon power nap went awry
On Thursday morning, third-year philosophy major Andrew Gerber jolted awake in the center of the Quad, wearing a bro tank and clutching a Hydroflask full of not-water. With a deep breath, he released his first words in weeks.
“This isn’t the Turtle House,” Gerber screeched through the driest throat known to man.
Students armed with final exam study guides and extra coffees promptly shushed Gerber. Did he not know? It’s week nine! We do not speak!
“Did I miss the Doxie Derby?” Gerber asked as he grabbed an unsuspecting first-year by the shoulders. “Who won? TELL ME IT WAS ANTHONY WIENER!”
Everyone was confused. For starters, this dude had been splayed out on the Quad for the past five or six weeks and, to be honest, the student body had assumed it was an act of political protest.
“I mean, I thought he was protesting the amount of work put on students with the stress of having to find a job, extracurricular activities and having to study well into the night… but now I’m starting to think that he was in a comatose state and we really should have done something…” Chancellor Gary May said.
Fellow Quad-sitters finally understood what had happened: Gerber had taken the world’s longest Picnic Day power nap. For those unfamiliar with the concept, a local Picnic Pro described it.
“The name’s Chad Slice, Ph.D.,” Slice said as he popped the tab on a can of beer right in the middle of my foyer. “I’ve been studying Picnic Day synergy for all seven of my years here. What we see in Gerber is a classic case of the afternoon, pre-second rally nap. This is often taken at 3 p.m., in the lull of the day. What our little trooper did was forget to set that timer for an hour. He trusted his little body too much… a rookie mistake.”
Slice removed his pair of 3D glasses with the lenses popped out, which I figure he was using as a way to look smarter or something, and grabbed Gerber by the cheeks.
“Listen here, fella, I’m going to tell you something that might blow your noggin,” Slice said, squishing Gerber’s cheeks harder and harder with each word. “First of all, did you know that the daddy seahorses carry the babies? It’s wild. Secondly, Picnic Day was over a month ago and you’ve been sleeping. You’re probably failing at least one of your classes. I mean, I haven’t gone to lecture either, but I’ve been checking Canvas, so I get it.”
Gerber began to cry, and they weren’t pretty tears. You know when, like, a 10-year-old starts to cry and their whole face kind of vortexes into the center of their skull like they just ate a full bag of lemons? It was like that, but with a month’s worth of stubble decorated with pollen in the mix.
“You mean… you mean I missed the second rallying?” Gerber sobbed into Slice’s shoulder. “And now I have to take finals?”
This is a cautionary tale to all who wish to celebrate Picnic Day with the vigor of Andrew Gerber. May you familiarize yourself with your phone’s clock app and may you never miss out on those Picnic Day nights.
Written by: Olivia Luchini — firstname.lastname@example.org
(This article is humor and/or satire, and its content is purely fictional. The story and the names of “sources” are fictionalized.)