Graphic Tee Student Loves Coffee, Sarcasm, Bad First Impressions
It is mid-afternoon in the wildlands of northside campus (colloquially known as The Engineering Corner): It is chilly out, yet still…this curious creature has insisted on short sleeves and cargo shorts for the day. At least his feet are warm with those thick, white ankle socks stuffed into black Reeboks. But above all else, one distinct feature of the creature’s plumage is most striking; no, not the facial hair hiking south on the neck like a brave pioneer, but rather, the tee shirt itself, for on it lies a sage quip: “Don’t talk to me before my coffee.”
Clothing is a great way to express yourself. A colorful Fitbit shows that you are sporty yet laid back. A shirt that reads “Free sarcastic comments!” shows that you have a charitable heart and love to bring a smile to others’ faces.
Out of all the students pressed for comment, only one possessed the social aptitude to respond. “Sarcasm is my love language, but don’t talk to me before my coffee,” said Brad Benton, a senior mechanical engineering major. “Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver.”
Graphic tees have won almost universal acclaim from both those who wear them and those who refuse to stoop so low. “Wearing graphic tees has actually been proven to slow social interaction to nearly zero,” said Dr. Tom Green, an anthropology professor at Texas A&M. “This is either because they literally say ‘Don’t talk to me,’ or because the people who wear them usually just suck anyway.”
Though graphic tees have seen a seemingly unopposed rise to high fashion, there are still some who seek the ruin of such beautiful artistic expression. “There is no better way to establish yourself as an unreliable narrator than by wearing a shirt that literally claims nothing you say is serious,” said Nancy Tran, a sophomore nutrition major. “You are what you wear, and when what you wear tells me you like coffee one day but sleep the other, what am I supposed to believe?”
—Bacon & Ags
It’s Sunday morning and you’ve woken up hungover and confused. “Man, last night’s house party was one for the books,” you think as you try and recall something, anything, about the party. The smell of bacon floats in from the kitchen, and you stumble over to see who’s cooking. You stand there in bewilderment— Bacon & Ags has cleaned up all of the empty bottles, cans, and Solo cups. He has cinnamon rolls warming in the oven, bacon on the stovetop, and an assortment of fruits on the table. You stutter, “Wow… I… uh… well,” but he cuts you off. “I just love a good brunch,” he says. “And since you threw such a great party, I thought the least I could do was clean it up and cook us some brunch! Here, I made some quiche— have some!”