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An Open Letter to People Who Ask ”Can You Watch My Stuff?”

Here at The Black Sheep, we’ve taken the time to write this quick form letter for you to use in the event that someone asks you to watch their things on campus. It’s annoying, right? So to save you from having to say no and explain yourself, you can just hand them this.

 

Hey, Douche,

 

I want to begin by saying thank you for looking at me and saying to yourself, “this random stranger is surely a standup guy capable of watching my Macbook and hundreds of dollars-worth of textbooks without stealing them.” I’m glad the black bags under my eyes and my resting fuck-off face did not turn you away. While I would make a lovely security guard for your belongings, I must decline your invitation to become one. In the effort to explain to you why, without actually speaking to your dumbfounded face, I’ve composed this letter.

 

First, I don’t want to do it: I’m just here in Hillman at 1 p.m. on a Monday because I’m a miserable fuck who wants to be around other, more miserable people. I did not climb three flights of stairs looking for a table to watch your shit; all the while you go to Cup and Chaucer or scroll through Twitter while sitting on your porcelain throne. Seriously bro, either accept the probable robbery or take your stuff with you. I’m not trying to add any more stress to my life; my stomach has already started to act up again.

 

If you really need someone to watch your stuff, go ask the liberal arts major sitting the corner. You know they’re probably sitting there watching House of Cards on Netflix because they sure as hell don’t have any actual work to be doing. Ask them and I’m sure they’ll end up writing an eloquent poem, sociologic evaluation, or psychological critique about you.

 

 

Second, what happens if someone actually tries to steal your shit?: Let me break it down for you, I care about your stuff just as much as I care about completing the OCC every year. It doesn’t matter if the robber is a common thug, a Mafia-Don of Pittsburgh, or a Dancing Kangaroo; I will not try to stop them. You think I, a mentally-exhausted, flabby-stomached, and self-medicated monstrosity, am up to that challenge? Please. Here is what I would do if someone tries to steal your stuff: blankly stare at them, cower behind my laptop screen, try not to cry, and/or cry a lot.

 

Third, if you’re going to be away for a while, I will probably give in and steal all your stuff: You know how broke I am? I will literally steal your calculator and sell that shit with an upcharge on “Free and For Sale” on Facebook. You have no idea how much money I can make off your shit. That winter coat, in this city, with this wind, and all these exchange students who came unprepared? At least $300. That Macbook, with everyone and their mom dropping laptops like it’s their job? An easy $1,500. Textbooks, one year old, with the activation code still unused? Easily $800. You want to tempt a complete stranger with $2,600? Come on, I’ve been trying to be a better person and you are not helping with that.

 

In conclusion, sit down and hold that shit in. I’m not going to be your guard dog. Good day sir/madam, I hope you’ve finally learned not to talk to strangers; especially strangers who are sick of this shit.

 

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