“The women on campus are out of control.”

By Luis Sanchez, Arts and Culture Staff Writer

Photo source: Toronto.com

TORONTO, ON – Alone and depressed, just like every other UofT student on Valentine’s Day, a particular staff writer (not Luis) was drinking his sorrows away at a nearby bar in the St. George area. Upon finishing his fifth vodka and rum, ready to call it quits for the day, he overheard a loud and belligerent male voice no doubt spurred by alcohol and pride — the unmistakable cadence of self-imposed superiority. There was no doubt that it could be anyone but a Computer Science major. Overhearing bits and pieces of his way-t0o-loud one-way conversation with the poor bartender, Trinity’s staff writer could only think of one thing, “This ought to be good.” Realizing he had procrastinated on writing his article for the week, just talking to this guy would suffice for some news, so he pulled his chair closer and got to talking.

Hey man, are you a CS major? Do you mind if I interview you real quick for Trinity Times?

My thoughts are too complex to be understood by humans not in my major. But I feel gracious today, so I will use small words.

Uhhhh okay?

You are welcome.

Anyways, I heard you were complaining about UofT earlier. Would you mind elaborating?

I was not necessarily complaining about the school, but the women in it. The females on this campus are out of control. I walked into Strachan one time with my CS hoodie, and literally, four women sat down next to me and attempted to seduce me, as if I even knew how to talk to a girl.

Oh really?

Look, I know it’s easy to get aroused by the mere presence of a genius like me, but at least take a hint of my blatant disinterest. I’m only at Strachan to get some cheesecake, mind you. Then the women apparently eliminated me from their dating pool as I demonstrated vastly superior knowledge about each of their niche interests. Why shame me for being smart?

So what did you do after that?

Anyway, that got them to leave, and since that episode, I’ve known enough to avoid Bahen Centre, a female hotspot, apparently. However, the problem has persisted in the past three months, as a few determined souls still follow me to lunch spots and CS tutorials. The mere thought of a non-CS major trying to blend in among my kind makes me want to throw up, and I am so fed up with everybody wanting to get with me.

That must be …… difficult.

I’ve even taken to moving all the other chairs at tables I sit at. Still, yesterday a small Asian girl literally pulled up a chair and began ranting about Praxis. After making it markedly clear that I did not, in fact, want to copulate with her, she finally left me alone. Girl, I don’t struggle with Praxis. I’m a CS major, not an Engineer. Still, I wish these girls would stop worshipping me just because I am enrolled in the hardest POSt at UofT, which was not difficult for me to get into, by the way.

So what do you hate the most about your, uhh, predicament?

The worst is when women from non-technical majors talk to me. We’ll be having a friendly, platonic conversation when they inevitably ask the fateful question: “What’s your major?” As soon as I say those two magnificent letters, I see their whole demeanor change. The doe eyes, the flushed cheeks, the jiggling cleavage. What makes an art major think they have a chance with me??? Data Science and CS are on whole different planes of existence. I’m not about to impregnate somebody that puts “Excel” on the first line of their resume.

That’s kind of sexist and condescending, don’t you th–

You may think I’m just remarkably handsome, which I am; females see me as an object and a genius when really I’m so much more. I’m top 100 in the world in League of Legends. My NFT shirt shouldn’t reduce me to a bag of meat–if you want my heart, you have to grind with me, raid with me, join my clan, and most of all, eat brown food truck with me and appreciate it. Not fake fans that use “going to the washroom” as an excuse to avoid the culinary experience of letting that poutine and hotdog macerate and emulsify satisfyingly inside you.

That was a disturbing mental image, and I’m just going to remove that from my brain. Regardless, why are you alone on Valentine’s Day too? If you can get all the women, why do you look just as depressed and lonely as me? Wait, I mean, uhh, just as lonely as uhmm, a lonely person would be, which I know nothing about for the record. I have friends.

Look, pal, I can’t go on a date with anyone who isn’t on my level intellectually. I didn’t want to be born a super genius. I wish people would stop fetishizing my kind for something out of our control. Hell, sometimes I wish I was a Philosophy major, moving through the world in ignorant bliss. But, I have a responsibility now to save the world and create the next Meta. Become just like Mark Zuckerberg. I’m sure he’s a nice guy.

I don’t think he is, isn’t he?

What, are you kidding me? Have you seen The Social Network?? He’s fantastic! Anyways, I got to go code and browse 4chan. Thanks for interviewing me, it felt good to get all of that off my chest.

Also, buddy, aren’t you on your eighth drink of the night? You don’t need to have a glorious 190 IQ like me to know that’s not healthy. You should get some help with that.


End of Interview

This staff writer knows that this piece isn’t inherently newsworthy, nor did he place any real effort into this article. But he believes that you, the reader, should give him at least one pass during his sure-to-be-short tenure as a Trinity Times staff writer. He’s not even sure why he referred to himself in the third person during this article. He’s not fooling anyone. It’s me, Luis, yeah. I’m the one who drank too much at the bar. Surprise, right? It’s just… so lonely at times.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone.

Luis Sanchez is a Staff Writer for the Arts and Culture Section for Trinity Times and a first-year undergraduate student at Trinity College. He would like to assure anyone who got this far in the article he was kidding about the seven rum and cokes, that’s unhealthy behaviour. It was actually straight tequila.

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