I was going to write a fun little article about how to give imposter syndrome to someone, probably that annoying frat boy who thinks he’s God’s gift to Earth in your philosophy class, but I realized I have bigger issues. Or, smaller issues. Lice. Head lice, to be precise. Not crabs. I don’t have crabs. Crabs are just lice in your pubic hair, right? Could head lice then become crabs? Why don’t people get lice in other places that grow hair? What is so special about the head and genitals? My friend’s mom once told me that she got crabs from a toilet seat. I call bullshit. She just didn’t want to tell me that she was being a little slut in Europe.
Anyways, this lice thing. What am I supposed to do? Go to Student Health? I don’t think that’s going to solve anything. No, no one at Student Health is going to love me enough to comb out my lice for me. Is the front desk lady who stared at me for a full minute when I told her I had a UTI last semester going to lovingly stroke the bugs out of my hair and coo into my ear? I don’t think so. I don’t think there’s anyone who loves me enough to do this for me. And I don’t mean just me, I mean any of you fuckers. You think someone out there cares about you enough to cure your lice? Absolutely not.
If I just shook my head during the lunch rush at Rand, could I cause a lice epidemic at Vanderbilt? The #13 university in the country becomes #1 for lice takeovers. I wonder how US News will factor the number of lice cases into their ranking. My point is, you never know when I will strike. Stay vigilant. I could be in your philosophy class. I could be at Taco Mama infecting your half-off margarita pitchers. I could be shaking my little ass and little friends onto you at Luke’s. Stay vigilant.