As this academic year appears to be coming to a close, one class in particular is finding it hard to to come to terms with their remaining time on campus before graduation: the Class of 2027. In just over three years, they will have to leave campus, never to return. Kicked to the curb. Taken to the trash. Dumped into the Hudson River.
But before that happens, it’s party time. The Class of 2027 is hosting their infamous “1,145 nights” event, which commemorates their remaining nights until graduation. The theme this year was “Down Under” and also “Scrabble’” because there was a tie in voting, and only two people voted. The event was held off campus, so students were shuttled in school buses to Poughkeepsie’s very own Chuck E. Cheese.
Class of 2027 President Barra Kobama, regarding the decision to host the event at a kids’ birthday venue, had this to say: “My fellow Vassarites, they gave us a great deal. Bottomless pizza? How can you say no? That being said, we weren’t able to get any tokens in with it, but who needs tokens when you have 53 boxes of Scrabble?” When asked why Outback Steakhouse wasn’t picked, Kobama replied, “Why pick any restaurant? What do you know about restaurants? If you want to be Class of 2027 President, be my fricking guest. Stupidass reporter with your pea-brain questions.”
At the event Tempus Fugit ’27 reflected while grabbing a slice of ‘za. “Wow, time flies. I can’t believe that my Vassar experience is almost over. I have made so many half-friends that I won’t be talking to for the next three years!” Fugit began crying onto his slice of cheese and pepperoni pizza.
Another student, Austin Stralia ’27, seemed excited to be at the event.
“Let’s get the scrabby going, mate! I gotta get that seven letterer! Chucky’s is no Macca’s, but it’ll do! Boomerangs!” After informing Stralia that he did not need to maintain an Australian accent for the entire event, he replied, in a heavy British accent, “Oh, thank heavens. I’ve already exhausted my limited knowledge of Australia.”
Another student, Linda Oxyphenbutazone ’27, finishing up a Scrabble match, reflected on her remaining time at Vassar. “In the grand scheme of things, how many nights do we really have left? Death is ever present.” Oxyphenbutazone proceeded to play “quasar” on the triple word tile for 45 points.
Fugit, after composing himself, provided additional context to the event’s stressful undertones. “1,145 might seem like a lot of nights till college ends, but tomorrow it will be 1,144 nights, and then it’s 1,143, just like that. And then pretty soon after that it will be 1,142 nights. Pretty soon you’re gonna be thinking, ‘What am I gonna do with the rest of my life? My college experience ends in 1,141 nights and I’ve accomplished nothing!” When informed that this piece would come out with only 1,139 nights remaining, Fugit’s head exploded, effectively ending the event as chunks of brain matter bonked into the Scrabble pieces, ruining the board formations. “Oh naur!” screamed Stralia.
As college life marches on (barring any major nuclear disasters), we will ponder such questions as, “Is any of this worth it?,” “Did I already peak?,” and “How do you measure? (Measure a year?) In comedy show posters? In clumps of shower hair? In classic peanut butter sandwiches?” This writer, for one, thinks nights are the way to go.