Oh boy, stop Blitzing me about your lost jacket/iPod/wallet/libido/dignity. I don't have them. And if I did, I'm not giving them back. Even if there is a "$$$$ REWARD."
I've always thought there was something slightly strange and incredibly irresponsible about the way (relatively) normal, modern young adults arrive in Hanover and suddenly trust others as if it were 1952 and every person on the street was a Mr. Rogers or a Carol Brady. Get with the program, neighbor. This is the 21st century, and good golly, there's a lot of really fcked up sht happening all over the world at any given moment, to which fleece theft and dorm burglary pale in comparison. Although residents of New Hampshire are known to do such loony things as say hello to complete strangers, leave doors unlocked and yield to pedestrians, this does not mean that bad things can't happen here in Hangover. Remember: 97 percent of Dartmouth students come from out of state.
Some people might argue that these "lost jacket" Blitzes serve as a wake-up call to Dartmouth students that we are not, in fact, living in a 1950s utopia and we still need to be careful with our possessions. To this I say, grow up! If one is intelligent enough to get accepted to Dartmouth, one should not need a third-degree burn in order to know not to touch the fire (except for you, future '12s), nor receive a lobotomy in order to appreciate our cognitive functions (except for you, GDX).
However, if you choose to disregard all of my sound advice and lose your belongings like a careless idiot, let me convince you why the "omg ill be your bff if you return my jacket" Blitz is a bad idea:
I got enough spam mail before some genius invented the "annoy the whole campus" list. So the minute your Blitz arrives in my inbox, I will resent you for taking up my time and my disk memory. Want to know what will make me resent you even more? Slapping on some deceptively alluring title such as "House Puppy" or "You've Been Chosen!" or "Brangelina at the HOP."
Don't psychoanalyze me. Nothing decreases your chances of seeing your jacket again like, "I know you were cold and drunk and didn't mean it. I know you're not a bad person and that you didn't take my coat on purpose." Oh you knew, did you? Well, just for that overly idealistic presumption concerning my moral caliber, you will never see your jacket again. But I bet you knew that too.
Three words: Recipient. List. Suppressed. Ignore them, and all of M-Z hates you.
Every Thursday, Saturday and Sunday morning Dartmouth students are either asleep in their beds or in the library wanting to kill themselves and swearing that they will never drink again. No one is going to pound the streets a la Chuck Norris, heroically searching for your jacket. Hell, they wouldn't have the presence of mind nor the clarity of vision to recognize your stupid jacket if Chuck Norris was beating them over the head with it.
There are much easier and more cost-effective ways to make money at Dartmouth other than returning your iPod (worth approximately $200 on the black market) for a measly reward of $7 and snaps from Kappa -- like posing naked for the art department ($18 an hour); not only is this every precocious Dartmouth student's dream -- money-making and facetime rolled into one -- but it will earn you enough for a burrito at Boloco and the gas money it takes drive to West Leb and pawn your iPod. I can do without Kappa snaps.
For all of the above reasons, and many more, the lost jacket Blitz simply does not work. All it will get you is a Blitzwar, more enemies and a heightened chance of contracting carpal tunnel syndrome.
My alternative to these campus-wide Blitzes? Face up to the fact that bad things can happen, even at good Old Dartmouth, and buy a frat jacket. If your idea of a frat jacket is a black North Face fleece, you are a lost cause. May God have mercy on your soon-to-be-cold soul. If you can manage to find a jacket that 95 percent of the campus doesn't own, you are on the right track. Put your key in your jeans pocket and lock your door when you leave, even if this means screwing up your roommate's booty call and invoking her wrath. Upon arrival at frat, find a creative place to hide your jacket; think overlooked closet, dusty crevice, hard-to-reach shelves and the like. Be strategic in jacket placement, and always assume the worst of everyone. Always.
And if after all this you still lose your jacket, don't Blitz me. 'K, thanks.
Katherine Gorman is a staff writer for The Mirror. Five stolen black North Faces into this term, she's pretty bitter.
