Another weekend has come and gone and I feel sick. When will my bagels return from war?
Picture this: last Saturday. I wake up bright and early, at midday, and reach for my direct line to a toasty afternoon – Snackpass. Alas, instead of selecting my spread, my bagel flavour, my cheeses, I am greeted by that same, sad emoji…
“We are out of bagels”.
Christina! I now appeal directly to you, Christina Hull Paxson (yeah, I peeped your Wikipedia). Now, I don’t how you do things in Forest Hills, Pennsylvania (the suburb of Pittsburgh in which you spent your childhood), but here on campus we care about three things and three things only. Bossing shopping period, obsessively checking whether Dear Blueno’s back, and bagels.
I will never forgive you, Christina, for these past few weeks. You took Everything from me. What’s so great about this ‘new dorm’, anyway? Does it have magical new amenities… does it have a water fountain, a shower that works? Is this dorm better than two whole months of bagel? Impossible.
I just sit in my room these days, emptying the TJs “Everything But The Bagel” seasoning directly onto my tongue. It’s not the same, Christina. Also the seeds are all in my bed now and I ran out of quarters for laundry.
Bagels, if you’re reading this – Mummy is very sorry and she is working very hard to see you again. Other staffers on The Rib have offered her alternative bagels – Blue State, Coffee Exchange… Aroma… Joe’s… (an insult, Mia). Oh, my gourmet bundle of joy, Mummy loves YOU and you only. We’ll be together again soon… anything less is Hole-y unacceptable.
Image via.