To my dearest polka-dotted bean,
When I first laid eyes upon the message in my inbox, I knew it was the start of something special. I had already gotten the daily “Instructure Canvas Notifications,” “Time to schedule your next COVID test,” and the usual hundred or so “recording available” messages, so this new email had to be something great.
But when the email read, “Announcing the new Virtual Quad experience,” I must admit, my love, I had my doubts. I thought for a moment that it might be a half-baked effort to pretend things were normal instead of actually addressing student mental health. No, Northeastern would never do something like that – it just had to be good!
My excitement was palpable as I created my perfect little bean. I could barely contain my anticipation now – it was like I knew you’d be there waiting for me.
However, the virtual representation of the Snell quad in which I found myself was totally empty. My dear, it was emptier than Outtakes on a Tuesday afternoon, and I was more alone than an engineering student on Saturday night.
“Where was everybody?” I thought. How could this possibly have gone so wrong? I would have cried, but there was no sobbing emoji. My hand was shaking as I prepared to close the tab and end my little bean’s short life, but then, in the center of the quad, you appeared.
Your polka-dot pattern was entrancing, and the soft, monochrome tone of your face was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. It was love at first sight. The way you moved around the quad, graceful as though you were levitating off the ground, was mesmerizing; the way you seductively whispered “1st 1st 1st” was completely irresistible. I threw up a heart emoji, and from the moment you spammed it back to me, I knew that I was yours and you were mine.
Together we zipped around our virtual paradise, floating on air (ok, maybe that was because the graphics were done in MS paint), and I could just tell you were the one for me, my dear. Exhausted, we fell into each other’s conspicuously absent arms. I had finally found the love of my life.
Trying to spark a conversation, I said “I ❤️ Dunkins,” and in one instant, you destroyed our relationship of countless minutes. You replied, “I ❤️ Starbucks” – I quiver as I write those ugly words. I felt betrayed and heartbroken. I cannot believe that a bean so lovely and charming as you would have feelings for such an objectively inferior coffee chain, and now I have to bear the guilt of having loved a Starbucks drinker.
My heart was broken, it’s true, but I can enjoy my Dunkins iced coffee in peace knowing that my depression, burnout, and isolation have all been solved thanks to the Virtual Quad.
Yours truly,
Blue bean with red stripes
