Disclaimer: This piece is entirely satirical.
I am here to admit that I stole the Mario Badescu Glycolic Foaming Cleanser from the Sulz 6 bathroom. All I have ever wanted was someone’s partially used facial cleanser. It’s not the actual cleanser that I desire. It is the fact that the cleanser once belonged to someone else and now it is mine—compensation for the fact that I am single and alone this Valentine’s Day. It’s like stealing a boyfriend or a girlfriend—I don’t discriminate—except it’s an inanimate object and not a significant other.
I began planning this during NSOP in 2012. I made sure to fail enough credits each semester, so I could be a super-super-super senior. No one would expect the 25-year-old woman living down the hall from a bunch of freshmen to be the thief. It was genius!
I needed to leave no trail behind because I would not be caught stealing the cleanser. Step one was to make sure no one knew I was in the dorm at that time. At 7:20 in the morning on Sunday, I loudly yelled, “I am going to the squash match at Columbia for the rest of the day!” up and down the hall until everyone was woken up and knew that I was not going to be in the dorms for a long time. No one would bother to haul their body off to the squash match to check. Once again, a genius idea from me.
Once out of the dorms, I went to Barnard Hall, room 409 (the best room in Barnard Hall since it is next to the all-powerful James Room). I broke the lock to the closet and there it was, the key to my success: the Millie the Dancing Bear suit! I put the Millie suit over my clothes and left Barnard Hall.
Next, I had to get back into the dorms. No one would dare ask for Millie the Bear’s ID. So I entered Sulz and Seth was at the desk. I said, “Hello Seth, it is me, Millie the Dancing Bear.”
Seth responded, “Hello Millie, it is me, Seth.” I am a little disappointed that Seth did not ask for my ID. After all, I spent $80 dollars on a fake student ID from fakeyourdrank.com.
I went up to the sixth floor since six is the number of years I have lived in Hewitt Hall. Then, I knew I had to get rid of the Millie suit. How could Millie, our bold, beautiful, busty bear, be among the peasantry within the quad? So, I went to the gender-neutral bathroom and threw the Millie suit into the far shower that floods, the one no one would ever dare go into.
Afterwards, I needed a new disguise. I put on head-to-toe merchandise from the Fu Foundation School of Engineering and Applied Sciences (SEAS). I wandered around the sixth floor, waiting for a perfect target.
Suddenly, I spotted her! There she had it: the Mario Badescu Glycolic Foaming Cleanser. Online only. New. $16. Size 6 oz/177 mL. Item 2185080. Sitting right there in her shower caddy.
I waited by the Hewitt elevator for the longest two hours of my life. But finally, she returned. I waited another 15 long minutes until it was time to achieve my goal. I went to her door and knocked loudly and aggressively. She came out and grumbled, “I was taking a nap. You woke me up with your knickity-knocking.”
“Hello,” I responded. “I am a student at the Fu Foundation School of Engineering and Applied Sciences (SEAS). I came to install an air conditioning system in your room. May I come in?”
She looked at me skeptically, but she knew she was not about to deal with another semester of celery, sweat and tears. “I didn’t know they let students from the Fu Foundation School of Engineering and Applied Sciences (SEAS) install air conditioners in Barnard dorms.”
I shrugged. “President Lee Carroll Bollinger and Sian Leah Beilock decided it would be best to have students from the Fu Foundation School of Engineering and Applied Sciences (SEAS) install AC units to save money for the expansion of the Manhattanville campus.”
“Is that also why they defunded the Columbia University Marching Band?”
Ignoring her last statement as the administration does, I barged into the room. She was so frightened, she ran towards her RA’s room, allowing me the chance to finally acquire her 6 oz/177 mL Mario Badescu Glycolic Foaming Cleanser.
I approached the shower caddy and finally grasped the $16 bottle of pure acid-free cleanliness and delight in my hands, relishing momentarily in the joy that I was finally free from this institution after serving my purpose.
Running away from Hewitt Hall, I knew I must leave or else I would face disciplinary action and consequently be trapped here for eternity. I ran back into the Sulz 6 bathroom and put the Millie suit back on, stuffing the cleanser into the tail pocket.
After seeing that the coast was clear, I made it back down to the Sulz lobby and saluted my comrade Seth. “Goodbye Seth. It is once again me, Millie the Dancing Bear.”
“Goodbye Millie,” he responds. “It is still me, Seth.”
I exited Sulzberger and ran off into the sunset while indulging in the sweet acid-free aroma of Mario Badescu. I may be gone, but my legacy lives on. Enjoy the knocking, ladies. It’s my final gift to you. This year, instead of the 12 days of Christmas, we will be celebrating the 17 days of Mario Badescu knickity-knocking.