Next time you go to the Craft Center, make sure you say hi
By ALLISON KELEHER — adkeleher@ucdavis.edu
The other day, I went to the ceramics room in the Craft Center to visit all of the artistic people here at UC Davis. As an accounting student, I try to keep in touch with creative people to feel fulfilled. I think the Craft Center managers are onto me though, because every time I walk through the door a resounding sigh sounds around the lobby.
As I was making my rounds around the Craft Center, saying “hello” to all of my creative friends, I heard a grumble echo from the ceramics studio. I figured it was a frustrated artist, which made me excited because I don’t run into those too often. However, when I walked in, it was empty and the lights were off. As soon as I walked into the studio, a manager was running after me yelling: “The ceramics studio is closed!”
I was a little offended, because I felt like they should make an exception for me. In a way, I feel like I’m the Craft Center mascot. I show up sometimes and walk around to make an appearance, and then I leave. I’m basically the mascot.
I ask, “Why is it closed?”
“The drain is overflowing, so it’s out of order.”
This made me mad, because some of the most creative people are in ceramics. Think of all of the friends I’m missing out on. So, I decided to investigate.
I waited out in the lobby until closing, much to the dismay of all the Craft Center employees. During that time, I pretended to study, however I was really studying the dynamics of the Craft Center. They’re hiding something for sure. At one point, I made eye contact with someone at the front desk over the edge of my laptop, so I had to pull back a little on the investigation. I decided to actually do some homework which was painful. Once the coast was clear, I continued spying on everyone in the Craft Center.
Throughout my spying, I took pictures of various people that entered the establishment because I needed style inspo. In addition to the lack of creative people, there’s also a style inspo drought in my accounting classes. It’s really hard carrying all the creativity and cute outfits on my back.
Anyways, as the Craft Center was closing, the manager was basically pushing me out with a broom. I dragged my feet through the door because I hadn’t gathered enough evidence. But then, someone arrived at the door and they were let in immediately. “Why does he get to go in?!” I exclaimed.
“He works here!” the manager huffed in annoyance. Aha. More evidence. This so-called “employee” wasn’t carrying any cleaning supplies or anything really, so there’s no reason for him to work here.
I waited in the darkness for everyone to leave, except the strange man that was let in. Then, I took out my grappling hook and rope and scaled the building with ease. I let myself in through the second floor and snuck downstairs to the ceramics studio.
The door was cracked and a light was coming through the doorway into the hall. I tiptoed my way down the hallway to get a peek into the studio. No one will ever believe what I saw — the man was reading a bedtime story. To whom you may ask? To a giant clay monster the size of a large SUV.
The monster was actually kind of cute — he had a round face with big cheeks and a button nose. Not sure why clay would need to smell anything, but oh well. He was sitting politely with his hands folded in his lap, listening intently to the story. I wasn’t paying attention to the story, but apparently something funny happened, because the monster let out a resounding laugh and melted into a pool of clay oobleck. When he was done laughing, he reformed into his old self and was ready for the rest of the story.
I wasn’t sure what to do with this information, so I continued to watch. What I saw was that the clay monster would get smaller and smaller with every laugh until he was the size of a pumpkin. Finally, when the story was over and the monster was fast asleep, he would melt into a pool of clay and slip back into the grate under the sink.
I forgot about my stealth mission because the storyteller noticed me pretty quickly after putting the monster to sleep. After apologizing profusely, he said it was okay as long as I didn’t tell anyone. I agreed, but of course that doesn’t include The California Aggie.
Apparently, as people use the ceramics studio, the clay that slips down into the grate will build up and this little monster friend will appear. They discovered that he would shrink down with a bedtime story so the Craft Center began telling stories regularly to maintain his size.
The monster’s name is Burt, and he’s actually really friendly, so I recommend that everyone go say hi and become acquainted. Currently, I’m trying to see how I can sign up to read him bedtime stories. However, the Craft Center is reluctant to allow me, since I broke into their building. So, I guess I’ll have to break in again to read him a bedtime story. To all my readers from the Craft Center: you can’t keep Burt away from me.
Written by: Allison Keleher — adkeleher@ucdavis.edu
Disclaimer: (This article is humor and/or satire, and its content is purely fictional. The story and the names of “sources” are fictionalized.)
