Editor’s Letter: “The textbook finalist”

[dropcap]I[/dropcap] woke up in Xananas the day after my third circle. The kind-hearted girl in athletics promised it would get more special after the first two times. I felt especially deceived by her. All I wanted to do was train for a half-marathon.

The staff in Warwick’s premier bistro were starting their day; filling up the ice tray and massaging the oil bucket. “What time is it?” I asked. The pimple-faced first-year barman answered snickering under his breath without missing a beat, “Time you got a watch… and a life”. This disheartened me. I had made an active decision to push myself into a new social scene. I’d had enough being ridiculed by the fact I dressed like a homeless person last year. My ex told me it was à la mode. Day by day I’d stripped myself of my vagrant ways. It just wasn’t enough.

I exited the SUHQ. Immediately hit by the smell of coffee emanating from the new Rootes Sustenance Store (now with a healthier choice of lettuce!).

The cold steps of the piazza were comforting. It was where England won the World Cup. It was where I’d had my first uni kiss. It was where we’d wait for the last bus home, one chip at a time.

Head between my tails, I was defeated. The textbook finalist with nowhere to go. Maybe I’d go to that ‘Intro to hedge funds’ talk. Who was I kidding? I didn’t even enjoy the Bruce Willis’ animated classic ‘Over the Hedge’, that was reason enough to miss it. I’ll go to the next PPE talk. I’ll ask questions. I’ll be the next Russell Brand – the man that single-handedly rebranded the Revolutionary Party out of extinction and into Westminster. I’d already got his gawky smile and his choice of initials, all I needed was his sex appeal.

“Excuse me, do you know where the Students’ Union is?”, an eager voice questioned above me. My head nodded to a general direction, “There”. “I’m a day late to this offer-holder thing”, her voice becoming clearer, her leavers’ hoodie appearing bluer. “You’ve got plenty to look forward to” I said, “just look behind me, some of the biggest people started there”, knowing only of the guy who started those Lonely Planet travel guides. To the side, the newly elected Vice Chancellor lingered: a ten-foot lime-green dodo. A controversial choice given the Bird flu endemic that took out all the postgrads in Lakeside last month.

The cold crispened her voice, “Could you show me around, I’m kinda lost here?” I scuffled up slowly, my collar stained purple, transforming into a talkative tour guide. “This is where you… And don’t ever go… But make sure you have…”. It was as good a victory lap as any.
[divider]

Photo: flickr/meathome