2008 Woodie Awards
Stalker Chronicles
Issue date: 3/28/06 Section: Detour
- Page 1 of 1
Making my way onto central campus, I take my time to enjoy the sights and sounds of midmorning SMC (and you never do know who you may bump into). As I walk across Ferroggiaro Quad I am instantly aware of the preparations for perhaps my most favorite part of spring semester. The Wednesday BBQs in the quad have begun! As soon as possible (which unfortunately isn't that soon due to technical difficulties - ok so I forgot to charge my cell and it died) I was calling my trusty partner in crime.
Before any strange misconceptions are made, let me clarify. No, we aren't addicted to Saga BBQs (although the ice cream bars do rock). I mean, yeah, free food is awesome and it's great to sit in the sun and listen to some live music, but what really brings us out there (and by us, of course, I mean stalkers) are the people who come to these BBQs. Lunch in the quad is prime grounds for stalking, getting everyone rounded up without limiting them to those with meal plans. And the best part is no one can really tell if you're stalking or just having a long lunch, and it's always a good thing when the element of being caught in the act is eliminated.
So by pure luck of fate my fellow stalker and I find each other just as the BBQ begins and we take a moment (in the form of giggles and over-exaggerated facial expressions) to appreciate our amazing ability to find one another sans cell connection - what can we say? We know where our duty lies. Don't get us wrong, we aren't lazy, hapless stalkers who hang out at the BBQ right when it starts and leave after it finishes to make sure we don't miss any sightings. No, we rely on our keen stalker intuition. Scoff if you will, but believe me, it's worked wonders.
Walking to our table, we survey the crowd like looming hawks. I spot one stray stalkee roaming around, but where are the rest? Well I certainly know better than to stop right in the middle of the quad and make a scene as I search the mass so I make a beeline for my friends. I get situated, spot the single wandering stalkee yet again, and follow him with my eyes as he leads me right to the pack, all huddled around one table - a stalker's jackpot. As expected, my stalker intuition had pulled through yet again, placing us in a perfect location as I realize I have a perfect view right from my seat and feel like a wolf just come across a flock of unsuspecting sheep. My partner in crime and I share a moment on the down low (we were sitting with civilians) and I kick back and enjoy my lunch. Nothing goes better with free food than stalking. As I leave the quad, I stroll by the Detour editor, casually lean over and whisper "I've got my article."
Before any strange misconceptions are made, let me clarify. No, we aren't addicted to Saga BBQs (although the ice cream bars do rock). I mean, yeah, free food is awesome and it's great to sit in the sun and listen to some live music, but what really brings us out there (and by us, of course, I mean stalkers) are the people who come to these BBQs. Lunch in the quad is prime grounds for stalking, getting everyone rounded up without limiting them to those with meal plans. And the best part is no one can really tell if you're stalking or just having a long lunch, and it's always a good thing when the element of being caught in the act is eliminated.
So by pure luck of fate my fellow stalker and I find each other just as the BBQ begins and we take a moment (in the form of giggles and over-exaggerated facial expressions) to appreciate our amazing ability to find one another sans cell connection - what can we say? We know where our duty lies. Don't get us wrong, we aren't lazy, hapless stalkers who hang out at the BBQ right when it starts and leave after it finishes to make sure we don't miss any sightings. No, we rely on our keen stalker intuition. Scoff if you will, but believe me, it's worked wonders.
Walking to our table, we survey the crowd like looming hawks. I spot one stray stalkee roaming around, but where are the rest? Well I certainly know better than to stop right in the middle of the quad and make a scene as I search the mass so I make a beeline for my friends. I get situated, spot the single wandering stalkee yet again, and follow him with my eyes as he leads me right to the pack, all huddled around one table - a stalker's jackpot. As expected, my stalker intuition had pulled through yet again, placing us in a perfect location as I realize I have a perfect view right from my seat and feel like a wolf just come across a flock of unsuspecting sheep. My partner in crime and I share a moment on the down low (we were sitting with civilians) and I kick back and enjoy my lunch. Nothing goes better with free food than stalking. As I leave the quad, I stroll by the Detour editor, casually lean over and whisper "I've got my article."