Dear Yuantee,
It's come to my attention that someone has been writing a column in the Daily under my name without my knowledge, and I suspect it's my housemates. I would have sought your advice sooner, but until now I assumed the exclamations of "good job" and "you're the man" I would hear on a weekly basis were referring to the incredible presentation I gave on new potential cures for Parkinson's disease. Not that I'm complaining. I've had a great semester unknowingly leading a double?life as Tufts' best sex columnist since Steve Miller. People buy me drinks. I get many first dates. I had a threesome with two girls once. People mistake me for the drummer of legendary Tufts band Knives For Sale. I can go on and on. Hence, Yuantee, my moral dilemma: Do I report this fraud to the Daily? Keep quiet and continue to reap the benefits of my burgeoning popularity? Beat the bejeezus out of my so?called friends until one owns up? What, mighty sage of the undergraduate world, should I Zhu???Worried On West AdamsWW,
This is my last column before the all?important commencement issue, WW, so consider yourself fortunate I chose your letter over the others. "Horny Howie on Fairmount" asking me how to facilitate an orgy with his housemates and the girls across the street was deeply considered, though in the end, the solution (advertising on TuftsLife) seemed too obvious to waste 600 words on. Sorry, "Horny Howie."
The answer to your predicament is slightly more complicated. I am a man of ethics, principles and pleasure and can thus manufacture an argument for each of the three options you proposed.
Your "so?called friends" sound like douche bags, but at the same time, it's important to keep things in perspective. Perchance what happened to you wasn't such a bad thing. Think of the actual consequences of your friends' deceptive behavior. You've had people buy you drinks. That's the greatest, tastiest gesture of appreciation a person can receive at a bar. You've met plenty of women. You must realize by now, from both real life and reading this column every week, that getting a date with a beautiful woman is one of the scariest, most testing experiences of my readers' lives. Plus, everyone likes threesomes and Knives For Sale.
It's also important to consider the stage in the game. There's a month left of school. Remember, there's only one way to change the past, and that is to forget. Or as Arthur Miller once said, "Why, the past is always changing ?? nobody remembers anything." You choose what you want to remember. Remember all the times your friends were good to you. Remember the times they carried you on the Appalachian Trail before sunset, when they lovingly mislead you into the dung?littered valley. Remember how they warm?heartedly opened the door for you when you rang the doorbell. Remember how they caringly ate your chicken nuggets without asking. I'm sure there are other great times.
Nevertheless, they deserve to be punished, just not by the Daily or anyone else but yourself. You should absolutely beat the living bejeezus out of them. If they ride bikes, slash the tires. If they drive cars, slash the tires, and carve your name into the leather seats with your knife for sale. Indignantly refuse to ever do another dish. Stop paying their bills. Compete for the affection of the girls they're after (and re?read my previous columns to make sure you win). Defecate on their faces while they sleep, reminding them that you're going to be a doctor, and they'll always be patients, slowly dying as you bathe in money.
Then, lastly, unapologetically, buy them all a round of drinks. Hug it out, have a laugh, remember the good times and toast to the future.
At least, that's what I would Zhu.
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