She Writes is a satirical column written by a Mustang News staff member. This content is intended to be satirical and does not necessarily represent the views of Mustang News.
It was Monday, and the sun was shining. Jeff woke up smiling, like he always does. He turned over to the other side of the bed to see Musty the Mustang. The mascot’s glass eyes stared back with the warmth of a lover.
“Good morning, darling,” he said and reached out and caressed Musty’s mane.
He got up and made the bed, rearranging the green and gold throw pillows and carefully tucking in the corners of his favorite sheets, the ones with the little dollar signs. He stretched and walked to the bathroom.
“You’re a stand-up guy,” he winked at his reflection. “And you’re going to do great things today. Everyone loves you,” he said as his eye twitched.
After applying some light bronzer and re-sticking his toupée, he walked over to the closet.
He sifted through the suits, each a shade of grey. His hand hovered briefly over his Special Outfit, the one with the shamrock pasties and green fringe. It had served him so well, the perfect stylish disguise for infiltrating the St. Fratty’s block party.
Three years later, the students still haven’t realized he was the devious leprechaun who took down the powerline while trying to do pull-ups. He smiled fondly at the memory.
“Not today, Jeff,” he said and grabbed one of the fifteen identical blazers instead.
He sauntered outside into the sunlight, away from the air-conditioned comfort of his multi-million dollar on-campus mansion. Today was an important day. He got into his university-funded car — another perk of the job, and he deserved it for being such a stand-up guy.
He savored the feeling of wind in his toupée for the two-minute commute from the mansion to his Very Special Parking Spot.
He stepped out of his car and headed to the UU. A pavilion was prepared for him to address his 25,000 loyal fans. It was the beginning of a new semester, and he was going to make sure their needs were met.
The California Men’s Colony had even built a green and gold podium, along with the two hundred chairs in the plaza.
Jeff admired the craftsmanship and congratulated himself on providing the inmates with such a generous work opportunity.
“I’d like to begin this session with a land acknowledgement,” Jeff addressed his audience of tan, blonde students. “Of what we will be doing with the lemon grove.”
He proudly surveyed the sea of students, mistaking their frowns for expressions of reverence.
“I have great plans for a super mall, the likes of which San Luis Obispo has never seen. Of course, there will be sacrifices to your learning and general wellbeing. And the permanent destruction of many trees,” he said and arranged his face into a mournful expression. “But these are sacrifices I’m willing to make.”
One student raised her hand.
“Is there any way the rent for PCV could go back to what it was last year? I can’t really afford the extra $10,000,” she said.
He inwardly scoffed, ashamed by the presence of such peasantry at his prestigious university.
“Unfortunately, that won’t be possible, but don’t worry,” Jeff responded. “We’re putting the money into exciting improvements that will benefit the entire student body.”
He smiled and thought about buying himself a fancy new hat.
Another student raised his hand.
“When will the construction on campus be finished?” he asked.
“Sadly, that’s all the time we have today,” Jeff said.
He waved awkwardly and scrambled off the stage. He drove away and disappeared back into the glimmering castle from which he came.