A day in the life of a fracket

Faith Breen, Contributing Writer

Wednesday, February 14 2018

7:00 p.m. — It’s dark and dusty underneath this bed in Kress Hall, and I’ve been stuffed behind a mini fridge/microwave combo for what feels like ages now. I count the passing days with the cooking of my host’s daily midnight ramen and thankfully it’s a Wednesday, so I’m hoping I’ll get taken out soon.

8:00 p.m. — I’m hanging over the end of the bed now. It feels great to stretch my arms out, and now I know I’m going out tonight. I’ve spent years being passed from person to person, living in dank quarters or being stuffed in the back of a closet; the only thing keeping me going is the anticipation of fracket season, where I truly thrive. Once November and December come around, and a crop top isn’t enough to ward off the cold, I’m sometimes lucky enough to go out three — sometimes even four — times a week!

10:00 p.m. — We’re on the move now, my current host and I, cutting down through the grove with a pack of other frackets I see from time to time. I wonder where we’re headed? Purple Pillars, maybe? I haven’t been there in a while. This is always my favorite part of the night — the anticipation of what’s to come and where I get to visit.

11:00 p.m. — I’m stuffed now behind a fridge and there’s some sticky substance on the wall, I really don’t think it’s puke but who knows what it might be. More and more frackets are being shoved back here with me; some are even old friends that I haven’t run into since around 2011. It’s really nice to see Blue, a thrift store fleece from 2003 that hasn’t come out since the recession in ’08. I was really concerned she’d been lost in the basement of Yellowwood and would never see the light of day again, but thankfully she’s back.

1:00 a.m. — I’ve been picked up by someone else and we’re heading out of the house now. Who knows where I’m headed, when I’ll get to come out again, or if I’ll ever see my old host again. I’d gotten rather attached to that old Kress host of mine; I wonder if she’ll miss me at all or even try to find me. Crazy to think these hosts are responsible for my whole life but they just think of me as some cheap coat that they wouldn’t mind losing or spilling beer on.

2:00 a.m. — I’m safe and sound in Vedder Hall hanging over a desk chair. Hopefully it’s a good sign that I’m not totally put away and I might get to visit St. Catherine street again on Friday. If not, I sure hope FIJI is having a register soon… ’cause what freshman girl would miss that, right?

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