Ariana Moseley (first-year, undeclared)

25

Author: 

You might ask me why I spent the bulk of my free Thursday in the isopropyl- streaked rooms of an urgent care center in Pasadena, holding my last clean towel to the deep gash in my boyfriend’s face. I was prompted to write this letter when I discovered that he wasn’t the only one to have this unfortunate experience.

Early on this particular rainy Thursday morning, my extremely unintoxicated boyfriend slipped on the wet, wooden stairs outside Norris facing away from Keck and landed on the underside of his chin hard enough to split his skin and bruise the bone. He bled profusely, the evidence of which is still all over his sweater and my towel. The wonderfully patient staff of Emmons sent us on our merry way in a vouchered Fiesta Taxi van, which resembled a taco in many ways, not the least of which was the food-like detritus scattered around its interior. As you must know, this was still quite early for the typical college student, and as such, I was still in pajamas. Skimpy pajamas. With a sweater that, thankfully, I had the presence of mind to snag on the way out the door. I was carrying a jumble of keys, cell phones, wallets, receipts, bloody textiles, and forms in a paper bag that I found in the parking lot. My stomach was complaining loudly about the breakfast that I would have been inhaling right about then. To complete this lovely portrait, someone asked me if I was homeless. After some x-rays, a mass of internal and external stitches and a flurry of phone calls from concerned relatives, I spent the rest of the afternoon keeping my boyfriend awake and checking his pupils to ensure that he wasn’t concussed. His scar is healing quite nicely now, although he will never be able to grow a complete beard. As for the emotional trauma- well, that remains to be seen.

The rationale behind this story, dear reader, is this: thank you, Facilities Management Department, for heeding my work request and saving our students the time (five hours) the money ($25 insurance co-pay, $40 taxi fare), the pain (six stitches, one bruised rib) and the embarrassment (someone asked me if I was homeless) and putting down grips on the Norris stairs for the sake of the Oxy students’ safety (priceless).

This article has been archived, for more requests please contact us via the support system.

Loading

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here