Dear Sirs and Madams of Skull and Bones:
We’re writing because we didn’t get our pre-taps last night. You must have forgotten us, which is weird because we’ve friend-requested all 15 of you on Facebook. You may not have noticed, but we’ve spent the past month stalking you in dining halls, at libraries and from behind that dumpster on High Street. We even created a Bonesmen circle on Google+.
Acceptance into Skull and Bones would be the zenith of our time at Yale. Since Bulldog Days we’ve dreamt of seeing our names in your Wikipedia article, sandwiched between “George W. Bush” and “Paul Needham.” We don’t even mind your tomb’s shitty landscaping or the fact that drunk frat-goers frequently piss on its front door. We believe that we’re a perfect fit. You own an island; we own Sperrys. You pay the highest water bill in New Haven; we take long showers. You’re a dry society; Leena is under 21.
Our entire lives have led us to this moment. Our accomplishments date back to high school. I once won second place in a tennis tournament’s consolation bracket, and, when she was a senior, Leena captained her JV soccer team. She almost assisted a goal. We were athletic, sure, but also creative. I once wrote a poem, and Leena was cast as Chorus Member No. 3 in her high school production of Guys and Dolls. Her other credits included Chorus Member No. 7 and Munchkin understudy in “The Wizard of Oz.”
At Yale, our careers have left nothing to be desired. We’re impressive people, really. Between the two of us, we’ve completed most of the Cheese Truck Challenge, eaten in 11 of 12 residential colleges and hooked up with a guy in every frat but Zeta (though that was mostly Leena). I’ve been told I’m funny. Leena hasn’t, but she’s recently learned a funny joke. It involves a priest, a rabbi and a goat.
Academics are important to us, too. If you combine our GPAs, we have over a 4.0. We took Intro Macro with Ray Fair and didn’t skip too often. Leena TAs for Arabic, and most of her students attend section. I fulfilled my distributional requirements with low-level offerings from the Astronomy Department, but Leena’s taken some real science courses. She’s pre-med and kind of smart that way. Though she didn’t make Phi Beta Kappa, she’s in Kappa Alpha Theta.
We’re involved in things. I once thought about running for YCC, and Leena thought about voting. During Bulldog Days, we wore stickers that said we sang. Leena is on panlists for ISO, PHC and Silliman IM soccer. I founded an organization last year, and it only died because I didn’t attend the hazing and sexual misconduct training. We’re also popular. I used to be in SigEp, and at least three brothers knew my name. Two of them knew Leena, too. Together, she and I have 1,934 tagged photos, which means that we’ve been to at least six real parties. Rumpus told us that we ranked 51st and 52nd in their list, but they didn’t specify which one was which.
We’re socially conscious. Over Spring Break, Leena posed for pictures with Nepali children. They got almost as much Facebook traffic as that photo of Old Campus covered in snow. We also care about the environment. Leena recycles. I own a reusable coffee mug. We don’t use trays. We know your organization values diversity, so you’ll appreciate the fact that Leena is Middle Eastern and I’m from Latin America. When we travel, TSA screens us for both cocaine and explosive devices.
The fact that you didn’t pre-tap us must have been a mistake. We’ve led interesting lives. Our bios would last at least six hours each, maybe longer if I talked about the pet goldfish that committed suicide when I was 12. So we’re writing to give you one last shot. After reading our letter, you must have realized the magnitude of your oversight. There may only be one Brandon Levin, but we’re still the cream of the crop. People like us belong in your tomb.
See you on tap night,
Teo Soares and Leena Ramadan
Yale University, Class of 2013