OP-ED: I'll Eat Mold If It Gets Me a Room at the Inn At Penn

When I applied to Penn, I made sure to put the Quad as my top housing priority. Everyone told me things like, “Oh it's so social—you’ll love your hall,” and like, “Oh it’s the real college experience—it's so traditional.” You know, I really believed them. Opening up the housing form and seeing the word "Ware" emblazoned on the screen: well, for the first time in a long time, I was happy. 

However, it wasn't long before I realized that everything I'd heard about the Quad, along with my happiness, was a lie. I had no friends (except for the mice), I ate Apple Jacks alone in McClelland every morning, and if the "real college experience" included me not getting laid, despite having a single, I'm not here for it. I wanted out.

Then, when I found out that my room in the quad didn’t have any mold, I cried real tears. People are getting to live at Inn at Penn? Are you kidding me? The fact that some people are getting out of this shit hole just because they were lucky enough to randomly get mold in their room is bullshit. I would do anything to get a room at Inn at Penn.

Okay, I see that mold is hot right now. I can get moldy. Oh, I can get real moldy. I’m gonna eat that fucking mold. 

I’m not joking. I’ll fucking do it I swear. Point me to the nearest mold and watch me go to town. There is no doubt in my mind that the mental health benefits of moving to Inn at Penn firmly outweigh the general health risks of consuming dangerous mold. I’m not a proud person: I’ve embarrassed myself before, and I’m ready to do it again. Now look Gutmann, I know that me eating mold is different than a room having mold. It's not technically your "responsibility." But c'mon, give a guy a break. Be cool just this once. The Quad is a prison, and I’m about to Shawshank my way out of there.