By: Alannah Wallace, SFUer Expert

 

The SFUer has a home and bed, but they do not sleep much. Most days, they wake up so tired that they feel weak and sickly. Throughout the semester, 90% of SFUers on average will develop a persistent cough. In the morning, the SFUers put on sweatpants over their PJs, gather gloves, a toque, and umbrella (even if it is sunny out), and set out on the treacherous journey up the mountain.  

     After shuffling off the Production SkyTrain platform down to the bus loop, the SFUer must carefully choose which door of the bus to line up at. If they are not careful, they risk not getting on the bus and having to wait for the next one with the rest of the peasant lemmings.

     Once the transportation unit has arrived, the SFUers are herded onto it and remain squished and expressionless with glazed-over eyes for the next 15 minutes. In these 15 minutes, the SFUers are blasted with heat from the bus air vents even though they are all wearing winter coats and do not have the mobility to remove them. You can hear coughing from the far ends of the bus and loud rap blaring from the headphones of buddy-guy a few seats away.

     Upon arrival at campus, the SFUers spill out of the transportation unit in every direction onto what often looks like a foggy, eerie, and silent Call of Duty scene that constantly smells of hotdogs at 9:14 a.m. They move around campus like sickly slugs sliding slowly through time, with flu-like symptoms from lack of sleep. It is common for them to develop multiple illnesses, exacerbating the coughing phenomenon throughout campus. Some SFUers wisely choose to stick to the outskirts of campus, only walking outside in non-crowded areas to get to their classes to avoid the sickly SFUers and their coughing plague.

     After class, they often wander the halls looking for the perfect study spot. They do laps of the AQ looking for the best spot, and then later, due to scarcity of resting places, settle for any study spot at all. Ultimately, the SFUer ends up in the depths of the RCB basement where you can hear the coughs of the SFUers echo through the big empty halls. They stay sheltered here, awaiting their last class while avoiding any form of socializing.

     Food has been scarce this year on the tundra (SFU campus) since the Triple O’s disappeared along with Triple O Tuesdays, the main source of an SFUer’s diet. This winter has been especially hard since the Highland Pub also shut down, depriving the poor SFUers of Wednesday wings night. The SFUer’s only chance at fattening up for the winter is to search for scraps in the Tim Hortons and Renaissance Coffee lineups.

     As soon as their last classes end, SFUers panic and run for the bus loop. One must remove themselves from campus immediately. There shall be no socializing in the SFUer daily pattern. As we have observed, the SFUer has problems making friends. The SFUers also rarely mate, unless they find themselves on the tundra by the avocado sculpture with no one else around late at night. The SFUers have not yet figured out that their mating call, the cough, actually functions as more of an anti-mating call.

      Finally, the SFUer arrives at home. They burrow into a thick layer of blankets and pillows where they can cough freely. The SFUer has survived another day.