By: Kelly Chia, Staff Writer
Dear SFU students,
It is I, the famous SFU Avocado. I’d like you to know that, lately, my life has been peaceful. Since most students have not been here for about a year and a half, I just get to relax, sit on a nice hill by myself, and maybe say hi to Terry Fox’s statue once in a while. People can just walk up to me and admire themselves in my handy-dandy reflection! Or they can check out their outfits, read, scroll on their phone . . . really, anything you can think of.
But there’s something approaching that plagues my stony head each and every day . . .
The Fall 2021 semester, or, as I’d like to think of it, the “fall” of my space of sanctity. The slow but steady stream of university students will return, and they will return horny. I do not know how, but they always do. As soon as the sun sets, everyone looks at the statue with an indent and thinks, “Ah, yes. I too would like to be dented.”
Indeed, I am the place to mount on the mountain. The place where people make some “guacamole.” The Academic Quad-reliever. I’ve thought of many puns, and I have seen so much sinning.
Really, I’m not even an avocado! I think I’m an egg? Maybe? Either way, that really doesn’t help the conception jokes, but conception jokes are all I know, dear readers.
I was built for something more noble than a quickie. Okay, fine, I’m not sure what my true purpose is. But that’s why you’re on campus! Aren’t you supposed to figure these things out? Maybe you can look me over quickly and write 1,500 words about why my reflection is, in itself, a deeper reflection of the student body?
Instead, I am looking at too many student bodies. And maybe all I reflect is your sins.
So I beg you, dear readers. Please consider anywhere else: your house with your spying parents, the paper-thin walls of your dorm, the library where you can get screwed by both your work and your partner— alright, yeah, I understand why you would come here. But I do not condone it. I’d just like one more semester where I can stand erect against the fog in peace.
A tired Avocado