To Whom It May Concern,
This letter is intended for a specific audience. I don’t know said audience, at least not in this instance but I have the sneaking suspicion that we’ve met. If this story doesn’t make sense to you, you’re not who I’m talking to. The story:
On Monday night I hopped on my burnt orange-esque Trek “Mountain Track” at my remote and desolate house that is situated in the barren wasteland of campus life that is euphemistically referred to as “across Washington Street.” I am a self-described Cancer, as well as biking enthusiast, which serves me well to help cut down on the fifteen minute walk to the science tower where I have most of my classes. I’m an E&ES major (insert rock joke here). Anyway, I had an obnoxious lab report due for one of my classes on Tuesday, and I needed to work on a networked lab computer to do it. So I biked across campus to the science tower around 11 pm, locked my bike in the standard, acceptable way, and went inside to slave away and mostly read CNN.com to pass the time. Around 1 am when I had decided that I could do most of it in class the next day, I went outside to grab my bike and ride home. There was a problem: my seat was missing. First of all, if one is to pillage and plunder my bike I hope that one would have the common decency to at least steal my bike in total. Oh no. Furthermore, my seat sucks. One time, I went off some stupid jump and, being your average, portly American, landed hard and literally ascended to heaven… no, I mean crushed my seat. I had to bend it back with a crow bar and pliers.
All day on Tuesday I was frustrated about the incident, understandably so in my own humble opinion. I shouted from my proverbial soapbox all day about the atrocity that had befallen my two-wheeled personal transportation device, hoping to elicit a confession of tomfoolery from one of my good-looking but misguided friends. To my complete dismay, it seemed that my seat really had been stolen. I went so far as to file a report with Public Safety in the naïve hope that they might find and return my precious bike seat.
After work on Tuesday night, around 10 pm or so I decided to be honest with myself about the situation and ride my three-legged-cat-of-the-bike-world home. I ambled slowly past North College. The radiating brilliance of old Wesleyan virtue gave me pause to reflect that our Methodist forefathers would never have tolerated such bike-seat stealing. I sauntered up the hill to my bike, mentally preparing myself for a painful but spiritually fulfilling seat-less ride back across campus. WHAT DID I FIND?!? My bike seat, resting serenely where I had last seen it.
So please, admit to me your wrong doings you wrong-doer so I can get on with my life and not question my sanity. Thank you.
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