Now that Halloween festivities have officially come to an end, Bucknellians face something even scarier than the ghouls and goblins: course selection. Anxiety-ridden students eagerly waited for their time slots, preparing for what they knew would be disastrous. With RateMyProfessors and Coursicle open side by side, students were ready to enter the course selection war zone. Or so they thought. 

In an astonishing display of academic mishap, students found themselves entangled in a bureaucratic nightmare that left them questioning not just their course choices but their life choices. What was the cause of this academic apocalypse? Wrongly assigned registration PIN numbers.

It all began when eager students gathered in the university’s online course registration system to sign up for their classes. Students diligently prepared for the big day, fueled by coffee and a deep-seated fear of early morning classes. The real terror would come from something entirely unexpected. 

Just as the clock struck registration time, students scrambled to enter their PINs and secure coveted spots in their desired classes. The excitement was palpable, but little did they know that chaos was lurking around the virtual corner. One student, philosophy major Ari Stottel ’25 confidently entered the PIN provided to her by her advisor.

Imagine her bewilderment when instead of securing a spot in the “Philosophy of Asparagus Farming” class, she instead found herself enrolled in “The History of Sandcastle Building.” Stottel’s initial reaction was one of sheer disbelief, as she wondered how her meticulously planned class schedule had transformed into an ode to beachside architecture.

Frantically, Stottel reached out to her advisor, only to discover that she had indeed entered the correct PIN. As it turned out, the registrar accidentally sent all of the advisors valid student PIN numbers, but they were assigned to the wrong students. She was distraught to find out that all students were required to take the classes that they were officially enrolled in, even if those classes were chosen by another individual.

Bucknell’s administration has, in response to these outrageous mishaps, issued an official statement acknowledging the “unfortunate clerical errors.” They’ve promised to resolve the issue promptly, but have not yet explained how such a comedy of errors could occur in the first place.

As for Stottel and her doomed sandcastle class, she’s decided to embrace her unexpected education in beach architecture. Who knows, maybe one day, she’ll become the world’s foremost expert on the subject, thanks to the university’s registration roulette. On your next beach trip, be sure to construct a towering sandcastle in Stottel’s honor, a testament to the wild mix-up that turned her into a renowned sand sculptor extraordinaire.