Doily Allergen Press Passes Prove to Be Total Failure

Doily fans, I write to you today from a cell located deep in the basement of the Iowa City County Jail. My rights have been violated, my feelings have been hurt, and worst of all, I was not allowed a second phone call after I tried to contact a certain reputable lawyer from New Mexico to now avail. My crime? Well, if you ask me, absolutely nothing! If you ask the police, however, they’ll tell you that it was trespassing. If by “trespassing” they mean “attempting to assert my rights as a journalist” then they’re goddamn right!

It’s standard practice for journalistic institutions to be issued press passes before the football games at the University of Iowa. The Daily Iowan gets them. KRUI gets them. But as for Doily Allergen? No dice. Perhaps the University didn’t get the memo that we switched sites and sent them to our old one. Regardless, all of us at the Doily knew that if we weren’t present to report on the football game there would be absolutely no other source of trustworthy and accurate information for our loyal readers. It was because of this that we made our own passes, as seen above. And in my opinion, these were one to one replicas of the real deal. My cohorts, however, weren’t as willing to drive out to Kinnick as I was, mainly because it was a sunny Saturday morning, and attending the game would require them to step outside into the real world for an extended amount of time.

So I set off on my own, bright and early at 5:30 in the morning, just to be sure I’d be able to join with the rest of my journalism peers when the press gates opened. However, when I arrived, security demanded that I show a parking pass. What parking pass?! Even after I carefully explained my role in the city's news cycle, they turned me away. No matter! I parked in a handicap spot near the Field House and suffered through the unbearable five-minute walk back to Kinnick. With no car to park, security let me through, but then came my next Herculean task: getting into the stadium.

I stepped in line with the rest of the journalists. I tried to make small talk, but they seemed to be shy, only managing to mutter things like “We don’t give a shit,” and “Who invited these motherfuckers?” The gates opened, and we all started pouring into the stadium. When it came my turn to show the pass, I revealed my personal creation, all in its Doily glory. Security wasn’t impressed, however, and they demanded I step out of line and purchase a real ticket. I refused. How dare they demand I miss out on my right as a journalist?!

I reacted calmly, as any man would, by laying on my stomach and crying until they let me in. Rather than being genuinely good people and relenting, they called for backup. This caused me to cry harder, desperately trying to appeal to their humanity. That was when the Iowa City Police Department arrived and, reacting in fear and indignation, I accidentally bit the neck of one of the officers.

And that’s how I wound up in this dungeon, toiling away while the Hawkeyes led us to victory. I am now asking for your financial support, Doily readers, so that I may post bail and pay for a lawyer once I am inevitably charged with attempted murder. Perhaps I’ll be able to reach out to that one guy in New Mexico, who knows?