Dearest Underwear in the Toyon Third Floor Shower:
You hang there, from the hook, a gray beacon of solitude. Undoubtedly soiled, but outwardly clean. A terrorizing warning to trespassers: “you may look, but do not stay.”
Why are you here? I literally sent a message to the dorm Slack asking you to go away, but here you are, mocking me. When it’s 1:30 a.m. and I’m tired and there’s one shower open in the bathroom, imagine my disappointment when I open the door, and there you are. No one can use that shower because of you, because what if you contain chlamydia or gonorrhea or something? So I’m forced to sit on the bench, carrying my shower caddy and towel as I wait for the girl in the other shower to turn off the water and awkwardly smile at me as she walks out. How much time is that? 15 minutes? Did you know that I can write a whole CS103 proof in 15 minutes?
Theorem: your presence in the shower makes everyone uncomfortable and furthermore wastes everyone’s time.
Proof: pick p to be any arbitrary person in Toyon. If you ask p, “what do you think about the underwear in the third floor shower?” they will say “ew, gross, I hate it, I wish I could take a shower but it’s there so I can’t.”
Thus, we have shown that you are gross and waste everyone’s time, as required. Q.E.D.
But seriously, can you disappear? Can you return from whence you came, to the unfathomable depths of some individual’s drawer of drawers? It would make me so delighted if I could erase your presence from my troubled mind forevermore.
A tender adieu,