Joe Goldberg visits Bertrand

Bridget Beljan, Satire Co-Editor

Hello, You. Who are you?

Between your Canada Goose coat and your Fjällräven Kånken backpack, you look like every other girl on campus. And, if I didn’t know any better, the faint smell of St. Tropez self-tanner oozing out of your Lululemon leggings would lead me to believe that you are like every other girl on this campus. But you’re not. Yes, you do hail from New Jersey, and yes, you probably have multiple pairs of Nike AF1s lined up in your closet since you destroy them every Saturday. But most girls wouldn’t go to Bertrand on a Friday afternoon before their endeavors on St. Catherine Street. It seems that the stars aligned so that I would be here, at this very moment, to watch you sip from your sky blue Hydro Flask. I then observe you take your tortoise-shell Ray-Ban glasses out of their case and put them on in order to find the book you’re looking for. It’s safe to assume that you take them off before leaving the library, succumbing to the social pressure of conformity that weighs on your dainty shoulders.

You don’t have to feel that anymore.

This is exactly where I had to be – where I was destined to be – to meet you.

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