On my walk to class yesterday, I stumbled across a crumbled page ripped from a thread-bound notebook. The handwriting was large and jagged like it was written by somebody with very large hands. You can imagine my shock when I read the sign off: Love, Rufus T. Bobcat, Ohio University’s premiere mascot.
The entry read:
Dear Diary,
It was supposed to be the best week of the year…
I’ve been here all summer getting ready to welcome this year's freshman, the class of 2026. The biggest class ever! I was so excited. I’ve been practicing my cartwheels, high fives and my favorite, hugs, all summer long. I thought I was doing pretty well this summer, heading out to parades, festivals and other community events. I met lots of little future Bobcats (a concept that is now quite terrifying to me after the events of Welcome Weekend 2022).
You see, Diary, I began flexing my Welcome Weekend welcoming skills on Thursday, the official start of the weekend here at OU. First, I was high-fiving new students moving into all the great, clean freshman dorms, taking pictures and getting lots of smiles from parents and students alike on what is a very exciting special day for all new Bob Kittens.
But it was when I was making my way back home to my Bobcat cave after a long day of Welcoming that I saw it. I saw… them. All those sweet, smiley little freshmen who hugged their mamas and daddies and grandmas and uncles and siblings goodbye were walking up to Court Street en masse. I’m embarrassed to say I was curious, so I snuck behind them with my sneaky cat skills to see where they went. Most seemed to slink up the hill, while a few sneaky sophomores took the Glidden Elevator like the sly, sneaky Bobcats they are.
They all walked up, many alone, most in packs with newly created friendships and bonds to last a lifetime. They were all laughing! I was so excited to see where they were off to. But then the throngs of students branched off once they passed the class gate, donated by the class of 1912. I saw a large line of them in the Red Brick Tavern.
That couldn’t be right, I thought. While I’m sure there are freshmen who are older than 21, many live off campus or are non-traditional students. Most freshmen who live on campus, by all accounts, are below 21! “Maybe Red Brick is a food tavern!” I thought. So I decided to sneak in and check.
(There were teardrops staining the page around the final line).
What I saw haunts me at night. I can no longer sleep.
The Pest is a satirical column and does not reflect the views of The Post.
