The Scarlet Letter Sept. 23 2016
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This must have been a mistake. No sensible person, much less a sizeable organization of my peers, should think giving me a weekly column is a good idea. Don’t get me wrong, I’m perfectly capable of putting words together in coherent phrases, sentences, and paragraphs on a weekly basis. This column will get written every week.
Nevertheless, no one should have given me a space to write about whatever I want. I wish that I could guarantee to you all that I will use this space productively, informing you all about important issues in our society and that each reader will walk away satisfied. Unfortunately, I cannot, and I apologize in advance for when I abuse this section with thoughts about the Philadelphia 76ers (#TTP).
I have actually written a few Scarlet Letters before. About two and a half years ago, our then editor-in-chief Jeremy Levine (‘15) went abroad. Sarah Cramer (‘16) filled in for him during this time, and the Scarlet Letter was taken by whichever editor wanted to write it that week, rather than solely the editor-in-chief.
I wrote two Scarlet Letters that semester. The first told Clarkies that they should start attending sports games, so I take full credit for the recent uptick in Clark sports attendance.
The other one, however, has a much longer story. At the time I was fairly frustrated walking through the cafeteria, as I found a large amount of my time was spent dodging couples who were holding hands. I texted Sarah, asking if I could write this as the Scarlet Letter. She did not respond to my text immediately, and while waiting I wrote how I felt. Shortly after finishing, she texted me saying that of course I could not write this Scarlet Letter, so I quickly put together something about the jar of Nutella I saw sitting on top of my microwave-mini fridge combo.
So, in one of my first acts as editor-in-chief, I have decided to run this previously rejected article. I am not sure if I still feel that cafeteria couples are a hinderance to my eating experience; I do not go to the space often enough to judge. But I felt strongly back then, and that’s all that matters. Enjoy:
I’m Ethan Giles, I’m a first-year, and I have one thing to ask to some of the couples here at Clark: please stop holding hands and being on top of one another in every inch of the cafeteria.
I understand that college goes fast and you want to treasure every moment with the most perfect person you’ve ever met. I don’t have an issue with PDA, you can both sit on the same seat for all I care.
Just please stop holding hands in the line for fried rice, hugging as you get apple crisp, and snuggling while you fill up your cup with your preferred beverage. I know this is a big sacrifice, as there is nothing more romantic than the walk to get cranberry juice. I’ve been in a relationship before; I am savvy to the thrill of getting silverware together. I understand that thirty years from now you both plan to sit by the fire and remember the time you got lamb from the Kosher Kitchen, and for this I am sorry.
I sincerely apologize for the trauma I may cause you; it is just that you make the cafeteria (which is already overcrowded) into Best Buy on Black Friday. I do not want to walk around you just so you can hold hands. You can separate for five minutes, I promise. Everything will be okay.
So please, pretty please, do not be afraid to leave your significant other to get cereal. You can do it, it is allowed. Godspeed.