(For confidentiality purposes, the Flipside will not be using Reed Pearson’s name in this article.)
Winter quarter bears not only sad students, but also sad weather. One sandal-wearing Stanford student is taking this particularly hard; in fact, the frigid air and monsoon rains have pushed this young man to pursue his education elsewhere. This mystery student (who shall remain nameless for the purposed of anonymity and “clout”) was shocked to see the weather switch from cheerfully sunny to woefully rainy. “It was disrespectful, really,” he confided in the Flipside. “After one surprise attack from the sky, I let it pass. But, it’s three strikes and I’m out.”
Outraged, the brave and bereft soul decided it was high time to take some initiative after half a week of rainy days. The student emailed Marc Tessier-Lavigne, writing, “As an avid biker, the rain poses a serious danger. My modded-out electric bike is covered in batteries and exposed wires; one drop of liquid on the central mother-servo and I’ll be immediately engulfed and incinerated by oily electric flames. The fact that you’ve invited this weather to campus is completely unacceptable. It’s starting to feel as though my tuition money is going down the drain.”
After countless emails over multiple weeks, Tessier-Lavigne’s silence was deafening, and the student decided to bite the bullet and transfer out of Stanford. While he admits that it was an extremely difficult decision, he conceded that ultimately his inability to wear chino shorts and suede sandals outweighed all that Stanford had to offer. “It was definitely hard saying goodbye to my friends. They tried to convince me to stay, but sometimes enough is enough. Just seeing my Birkenstocks…” he said, choking back tears. “My Birks have faced irreparable water damage. My short-sleeve button-ups and Bermuda shorts are not just ‘pieces of clothing.’ They are part of who I am.”
As of press time, it is reported that this anonymous Stanford student hopes to try his luck in his hometown at the University of Chicago.
