Juliet Becker / The Daily Nexus

It was 11:38 p.m. at the ‘Snot Fuckers’ bandshow in the backyard of a house on 69 Del Playa Drive. A diverse crowd of music enjoyers had gathered: girls seeking a break from the Bikinis and Benadryl party at a nearby fraternity house, boys that couldn’t get in and a sprinkle of middle-aged men hoping to find a girl who wants a taste of the 80s. 

But far on the outskirts, nodding along to the music alone, stood first-year data and compussy science major Bartholomew Buttkiss. 

“I’ve been standing here the last two hours waiting to talk to some huzz, but no fine shits have even come within five feet of me,” said Bartholomew (who likes to go by Bart Not-a-simp-son, or just Bart). “I even wore my cleanest Radiohead shirt and converse.” 

Bart came to the show in hopes that a suitable match, or as he puts it, “any chick who ain’t chopped,” would approach him and start talking. To his disappointment, not one girl ventured far enough away from the main crowd to see him lurking in the dark. 

“I think I’ve got a lot going for me, you know,” Bart said. “I’ve put a lot of effort into building my nonchalant aura, and I think once I lock in for my winter arc the huzz won’t be safe.”   

To better understand Bart’s troubles, Nexustentialism interviewed Patricia Shah, another audience member at the show. When asked why she had not talked to Bart, Patricia asked, “Who?”

Upon having him pointed out for her, Patricia had a startling revelation, “Oh, that guy! He slid up on my friend’s story and asked if she sold feet pics.”

Bart neither confirmed nor denied this report.

 

Gauc-hoe Joe thinks we should all give guys like Bart a chance.

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