To the Editor:
I am writing to express my considered opinion on Talya Phelps’ opinion article from October 13, 2016: “Possible write-in candidates are scarier than Trumpkins.”
As the fifth posited write-in candidate in the piece, I, Gym Guy (Karl), take great umbrage—yes, “umbrage” (I know words; I know the best words)—at being lampooned in such fashion.
First of all, let’s dispense with the ad hominem attacks. Yes, I’ve been called everything from “Mr. Constipated” to “Ozymandias” (“Look on my Floors, ye mighty, and Despair!”) but none of these childish labels diminish the righteousness of my position, which is a zero-tolerance policy of allowing footwear that has been worn outdoors to be worn in the AFC.
Students, faculty and staff of the College can mock me all they like, but I have toured over 1,000 college fitness centers around the world, and I can assure you that, because of my absolute shoe-change policy and the fly paper I’ve installed at the fitness room door, Vassar’s facility is the cleanest anywhere.
The hand towels in my fitness center are the plushest, cleanest towels, folded and re-folded dozens of times a day for your convenience. A confession: sometimes on rainy nights when I can’t sleep, I come back to the fitness center, mess up all the towels and fold them again. It’s more soothing than Klonopin with a Bushmill’s chaser; that’s for sure.
I realize that many of you set aside the sneakers you wear while mucking stalls on the Farm or while swamp-running, just so you can spitefully change into those sneakers, but I know who you are. When you walk into the gym and see me hunched over a computer, it might seem like I’m just randomly surfing the web, but I’m not; I’m consulting the databank of the 437 hidden cameras around campus; I know what sneakers people are wearing.
I have given hours and hours of deep thought to the conundrum of the inside-outside sneaker duality, so I am aware of the scientific principles at work, too. I realize that because electron orbits extend the distance of a football field, your inside sneakers are technically outside at the same time; but the fact is, the nuclei of the sneakers are on your feet, which are inside, so I have decided to overlook this seeming contradiction.
And those of you who think you’re clever, buying two pairs of the same sneakers—I know about that gambit as well. Oh, and while we’re on the subject of buying sneakers, for once and for all I want it known that all rumors of my receiving kickbacks from Foot Locker at the mall are greatly exaggerated.
Ms. Phelps, alluding to how I “gruffly ordered [her] out of the AFC” and caused her stomach to drop, went on to write, “Any man who can make me feel like that is a man with the power to lead a country.”
Let’s be clear: I do not want to lead this country. I like my little fiefdom. Furthermore, I know I am doing the world a great service by having some rules on this God-forsaken campus and then enforcing those rules. You spoiled Baby Ivy brats need me, because, trust me, when you get out into the Real World, you’re going to quickly discover that the world makes you do a hell of a lot more than change your sneakers. You’re going to have to conform, fit in, blend, assimilate…so it’s better that you learn how to do that now.
One day you’ll thank me for it.
Gym Guy (Karl)