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I Lived It: Towne 8/10 Discovers They’re a Huntsman 4/10


Photo by Cindy Chen / The Daily Pennsylvanian

It is the night before my first midterm. The sun has set, the dining halls have closed, and chatter fills the air as many across campus gear up for a night of frivolity. It is finally time for me to rise from my 12 hour-long nap and cram the [first and] last few hours of studying.  

I beg one of my Wharton roommates to book me a Huntsman GSR. I would stay in my room or go up to the high rise rooftop, even, but studying is truly devoid of purpose if it is isolated, where no one else can see that I am putting in the #work. My preferred GSR is a glass box in the middle of locust for all eyes to pry into. Many folks say that “happiness is only real when shared,” but I'd rather do so with my free body diagrams and anxiety. 

My roommate begrudgingly books the GSR – after all, I do know where she lives – and I start my long trek from the high rises to Huntsman GSR F51. It is here that I will camp out for the rest of the night, or till I stop hating the idea of failing my exam. 

In my standard Penn sweatshirt and jeans, I scan my Penncard to get into Huntsman after hours, and, suddenly, an overwhelming sense of insecurity comes over me. And no, it is not just because I am an M&T reject.  I feel … ugly? Almost as if I’ve been transported back to high school (scary). 

I retrace all my steps. I showered today. I’m wearing clothes that have been washed within the past five business days. Where is my praise?

Walking through the forum, I see herds of people dressed in business casual or business formal attire. I guess all of them are pledging? Or interviewing, at this hour? And why do all of them have their hair styled; don’t they know that a hood is basically the same thing? 

I start to get a lot of weird looks – very different from the scared faces of male engineers that I’m accustomed to. I assume that’s just how business majors express those same feelings. 

After thirty minutes of slaving away, I am rudely interrupted and kicked out of my GSR by a gang of people in suits and binders. I don’t even go here, but how did they know that? I gather all my things, and run away with my tail between my legs. At least they won't think I'm the stereotypical stinky engineer;  I put on deodorant less than 24 hours ago. 

What a traumatizing experience in Huntsman, and not just because I don’t know what friction is. At least Sidechat knows that MEAM girls are hot – Huntsman, get with the program.