Freshman Loses Girlfriend to the Poster Guy

Many freshmen, upon entering their first semester of classes, often find themselves with a variety of issues that they hadn’t taken into consideration when planning their big move. Simple mistakes like forgetting to pack shampoo, spending textbook money on drugs, sleeping through their first class, fighting the lord of goblins because the drugs were from a bad batch, and getting confused by bus schedules are all classic problems that everyone goes through during their first couple of weeks on campus. One issue that I ran into was the homesickness that came from living somewhere that didn’t look or feel like the comfortable space I had long been accustomed to. Luckily, I, as well as many other University of Iowa students, were able to make their dorms feel a little more cozy by buying posters at Hubbard Park to bring some life and self-expression to their living spaces. I can say for certain that after spending fourteen dollars on a large, pixelated printing of Tom Brady, Harry Potter, and Bill Clinton ripping a bong, I felt more at home than I ever thought I could here.

Freshman student, Schmidt Stane, was facing a similar dilemma as baby me during his second week in Iowa City. He’d been too busy doing bonding exercises and playing hacky sack during On Iowa! to give much care to his living arrangements––leaving most of the heavy lifting to his roommate, Whizzer––but he began to notice, during his first week of classes, just how barren his surroundings were. The concern was brought to light by his loving girlfriend, whom he’d been in a long-term relationship with for four days. She’d first visited his room after a high-tension bonding exercise at the Quad, and after pointing out how impersonal his walls were, Schmidt was determined to dissuade her fears of his blank-slatedness. How dare she accuse him of not having a personality! He saw Morgan Wallen in concert and watched at least three episodes of The Sopranos, that should constitute enough of a personality! He had to show her, so once he saw signs for a poster sale, he seized his opportunity.

With his arm wrapped around her shoulder, Schmidt led his girlfriend to the poster sale at Hubbard Park. As they entered the tent, they passed by the cashier stand, where a slender man with greasy hair stood.His high eyes stared at nothing in particular. Schmidt tipped his fedora to the man as he passed by him, but the man looked past him and instead turned to his girlfriend, giving a brief wink. The girlfriend twirled her hair and is noted to have produced a light blush at the gesture. Schmidt and his girlfriend walked around the tent and looked through the posters, with Schmidt pointing and verbally exclaiming whenever he saw something he recognized and his girlfriend nodding noncommittally in response. Other students perusing the tent during this time have reported noticing Schmidt’s girlfriend turning to catch a glance at the poster-selling man as he attempted to use sticky tack as chewing tobacco.

While Schmidt was looking at dogs playing poker, his girlfriend was looking at the poster guy.

While Schmidt was looking at a mugshot of Elvis Presley, his girlfriend was looking at the poster guy.

While Schmidt was looking at a poorly-photoshopped picture of LeBron James dunking on Macaulay Culkin, his girlfriend was looking at the poster guy.

Finally, Schmidt found what he was looking for, the poster that described who he was perfectly. With an air of pride, he held out a poster of Rick from Rick and Morty yelling, “Wubba Lubba Dub Dub” with a shirt that said “I Heart MILFs.” It was everything he ever wanted! Now, the world would know that he, Schmidt Stane, was a fan of not only the well-aged classic Rick and Morty but also attractive mothers. He turned excitedly to his girlfriend to proclaim the good news, but where there should’ve been his girlfriend, there was only a faint smell of pot and a condom wrapper left in the grass. He ran out of the tent and frantically searched for his four-day love, yet it appeared that she had vanished. He slumped over and sadly went to pay for his poster, but the poster guy seemed to have gone too. Schmidt turned and found that all evidence of the tent had disappeared… everything was gone except for the Rick and Morty poster in his hand.

Since that fateful day, Schmidt hasn’t left his dorm, even for classes. In a state of madness, he’s sought to decorate his walls himself, carving cave drawings into the drywall with his fingernails that depict a happy couple celebrating their week-long anniversary. His unkempt hair and unwashed clothes convey a lack of care for his appearance, or at least less care than usual, which isn’t saying much.

In other news, let me congratulate Mr. and Mrs. Poster Guy on their recent engagement! I see many little poster children in their future.