To: ScavHunt -- one soul, partially intact
I HAVE JUST COMMITTED PUBLIC INDECENCY.
I WAS JUST NAKED IN THE BOOKSTORE WHERE EVERYONE BUYS THEIR BOOKS.
NAKED.
IN PUBLIC.
So there's this little thing at the University of Chicago called ScavHunt. You get to do things like get a passport stamped with visas from the Axis of Evil, and build nuclear reactors, and tape yourself to buildings with duct tape.
Item 21 this year was: "Walk into the Seminary Co-op wearing only backpacks and shoulderbags."
Thing is, you always have to check your bags when you go into this bookstore.
I changed in a bathroom in the Reg, then walked across the quads. Even the people pimping Greenpeace avoided me! The judges all met me in a herd near the circle. They were highly impressed with my ensemble, of which there may soon be pictures. So, we were talking, joking about the cold, la la la. We go into the bookstore, go down the stairs... oh! So they were all in front of me. They all checked their bags, and I came last. Bwahaaa.
"D'you want me to check my bags?" I asked the woman behind the counter. She sort of smiled and said yes. "Are you sure? Because I'll check them."
"Well, yes."
"Okay..."
So I took off the backpack that was covering my chest. I've never seen somebody go O_O but she did. Everybody did. So there I was, topless and wearing a loincloth made of two shoulderbags, and the cashier calls in the manager for an opinion.
"Should she check all her bags?" she asks kind of doubtfully, plainly hoping that she can give me my backpack back so I can cover myself up.
The manager looks at me, her arms crossed over her chest, and she sort of smirks. "No, I think she has to check all her bags." She had a look on her face like, She'll never do it.
I sort of shrugged and smiled. "Okay." Yoink! "Here you go."
Collective noises of being vastly amazed from the judges. The woman who was in line to pay has her eyes squeezed shut and has her head bent to the floor.
"Wow," says the cashier. "Well. Here's your pin." And she hands me the clothespin that identifies my stuff so I can get it back.
And I walked around the Seminary Co-op bookstore in my birthday suit. Granted, I did grab two hardcovers to, er, get the lower torso. But wow. Wow.
After about forty-five seconds, one of the judges rushes over and hands me my bathrobes. THANK YOU. I shuck it on, and we're all still so giddy as we get our bags back and leave. We can't stop talking about it, and everyone is complimenting me.
I just... wow. Wow.
I don't even know what to say anymore. It was fucking amazing. And ScavHunt owns me so hard.
I WAS JUST NAKED IN THE BOOKSTORE WHERE EVERYONE BUYS THEIR BOOKS.
NAKED.
IN PUBLIC.
So there's this little thing at the University of Chicago called ScavHunt. You get to do things like get a passport stamped with visas from the Axis of Evil, and build nuclear reactors, and tape yourself to buildings with duct tape.
Item 21 this year was: "Walk into the Seminary Co-op wearing only backpacks and shoulderbags."
Thing is, you always have to check your bags when you go into this bookstore.
I changed in a bathroom in the Reg, then walked across the quads. Even the people pimping Greenpeace avoided me! The judges all met me in a herd near the circle. They were highly impressed with my ensemble, of which there may soon be pictures. So, we were talking, joking about the cold, la la la. We go into the bookstore, go down the stairs... oh! So they were all in front of me. They all checked their bags, and I came last. Bwahaaa.
"D'you want me to check my bags?" I asked the woman behind the counter. She sort of smiled and said yes. "Are you sure? Because I'll check them."
"Well, yes."
"Okay..."
So I took off the backpack that was covering my chest. I've never seen somebody go O_O but she did. Everybody did. So there I was, topless and wearing a loincloth made of two shoulderbags, and the cashier calls in the manager for an opinion.
"Should she check all her bags?" she asks kind of doubtfully, plainly hoping that she can give me my backpack back so I can cover myself up.
The manager looks at me, her arms crossed over her chest, and she sort of smirks. "No, I think she has to check all her bags." She had a look on her face like, She'll never do it.
I sort of shrugged and smiled. "Okay." Yoink! "Here you go."
Collective noises of being vastly amazed from the judges. The woman who was in line to pay has her eyes squeezed shut and has her head bent to the floor.
"Wow," says the cashier. "Well. Here's your pin." And she hands me the clothespin that identifies my stuff so I can get it back.
And I walked around the Seminary Co-op bookstore in my birthday suit. Granted, I did grab two hardcovers to, er, get the lower torso. But wow. Wow.
After about forty-five seconds, one of the judges rushes over and hands me my bathrobes. THANK YOU. I shuck it on, and we're all still so giddy as we get our bags back and leave. We can't stop talking about it, and everyone is complimenting me.
I just... wow. Wow.
I don't even know what to say anymore. It was fucking amazing. And ScavHunt owns me so hard.