Lovers From Opposite Towers: The Lost Bra Pad, A Cinderella Story
It was just a typical Sunday evening as I was doing laundry within the confines of The Towers’ basement. The Metallica in my AirPods was screaming at me just when I spotted something lying on the ground: a singular bra pad. This was not just any bra pad, but one of perfect teardrop shape and the exact size of my hand. The cream color glistens in the reflection of the fluorescent lights.
Suddenly, I saw a girl dart past me and bee-line towards West Tower. I live in East. She was dressed in a hoodie so I couldn’t see her face. A draft coming from who knows where whispered in my ear “you have to find her, this is your chance for true love.” It would be a fairy tale come true: my own Cinderella story, and me, Prince Charming. Now I must find the perfect foot for the shoe, or in this case, boob for the bra.
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I have never really cared for staring at women’s breasts till this moment. In an effort to find Cinderella, I started hanging out in Franklin Lounge. I watched girl after girl walk in and turn toward West Tower, mentally comparing boob to pad.
I even tried canvassing on different odd floors in West Tower asking for different mistresses to try on the bra pad; however, I got surprisingly adverse reactions. No one wanted to try on the bra pad, but how come everyone wanted to try on the shoe for Prince Charming? It's no different than what I’m doing…all I’m saying is that man 100% had a foot fetish. Anyway, my attempts to ask girls to try on the bra pad were futile, but I kept knocking anyway.
Finally, I had reached the 9th floor, discouraged through my journey. There was no way this floor would be any different. As I relive the treachery of “who are you,” “get away from me,” and “you pervert” I finally make it to the last door. I knock and a familiar figure appears.
I was immediately stunned by her unwavering beauty; I could barely speak.
“Uh…. so… I..”
“What do you want?”
I stretch my arm out, bra pad in hand.
“Where’d you get that?!?”
Her boobs were outlined in her form-fitting t-shirt and looked exactly as I imagined. Thank goodness for the Towers’ excessive heating system (it’s January).
“Laundry room… I... wanted to ask….”
“Ew, get away from me you pervert!”
“I..I.. lov…” she slams the door in my face. Quite literally, I was lucky I didn't get a broken nose.
It was at this moment I realized that it was better for me to be alone for the rest of my college years, life if you will. If I couldn’t find my princess as a freshman, I was doomed. The only thing I can rely on is Metallica: as the music screams, so does my soul.