B-Level of the Trexler Library here at Muhlenberg is too quiet and it needs to fix itself soon or else I’m OUT. DONE. DIDDLY SQUAT, PEACE. For those of you who aren’t “in the know” like me, there are three levels of the Trexler Library. A-Level, where all volumes are welcome, B-Level, where moderate volumes are welcome, and finally, C-Level, where no volumes are welcome. When one used to travel down to B-Level, they would expect the quiet, hushed laughter of a small baby, sweet as the sun itself. I remember one sweet summer day, when I used to frequent said B-Level, where I went down with a couple of guys who were up to no good. We all started making trouble in the Trexler neighborhood. Those were the days. However, in today’s B-Level, all they get is the same silence, and expectation to uphold such silence, that one could only expect of C-Level. Plus, it smells. I’ll say it, I’m not afraid (to take a stand, everybody, come take my hand). It smells like the big Mothman, with all those old, stinky stinky books. I’m talking to you, B-Level, fix yourself, before the stench of silence takes hold for good.
Why am i bringing this up now, and not long ago as the prophecies foretold, you ask? Well, today, I was rudely, and I mean RUDELY, shushed on B-Level for talking at a very optimal volume for the area. Little did they know they upset the queen, the one with the fingers and the power to write. Now before we move on, what was I talking about you might ask? You’ll have to stay tuned to find out. What was I doing? Not hacking into The Weekly. Who was I talking to? Will Wamser and Karly McCloskey, two of my best friends. They love me, I swear. Anyways, this shush sent me into a fit of inner rage. Shush me? The writer of great articles such as “The Uncomfortable Truth about Water”? How dare they. Muhlenberg is far too mad these days, and this just shows it. Even still, you may assume that I was embarrassed, which I was but that’s a secret between you and I only ;). I couldn’t believe my ears, the audacity of the person shushing me was otherworldly. Who would shush me? The best friend of Will Wamser, and soon-to-be Staff Writer for the weekly. Did they know who they were shushing? Do you think they’ll regret it? Probably.
The point is, this is #NotMyBLevel. It’s too quiet. The expectations are that of C-Level. Where am I supposed to go to do work with my friends but not worry that I’m typing too loud? And what is with that smell? It’s purely putrid, less like the Mothman, more like his farts. Don’t shush people on B-Level, it makes it look bad and that’s just mean. With a little work, B-Level can return to its former fun loving glory, but the queen (thats me) can’t fix it alone. I say we all go to B-Level, tomorrow, at 1:30 P.M. and talk at whatever level we feel comfortable with, regardless of a shush or two. I hope to see all my good friends there. While we’re at it, let’s all go find that big Mothman and take him down and rid the place of his farty stench. Let’s #SaveMyBLevel.
P.S. I am STILL a legit writer at the weekly, not a hacker, and Emily Drake is STILL fine, we’re good friends.
Yours Truly,
The Queen, Wataholic Numero Uno
