University Star

Joe Sophomore is a fictional representation of some students’ experience at Texas State.

Joe Sophomore awoke to an alarm clock at 9:30 a.m. His bowling class isn’t until 11 a.m., but Sophomore prefers to wake up as early as possible in order to secure a toilet and shower at the oft-overcrowded community bathroom he shares with the other guys on his floor at Jackson Hall.

Sophomore shuffled through the hallway toward the bathroom and when he opened the door, he was too late. Lines of bleary-eyed shower takers crowded the bathroom.

“Looks like I’ll be skipping a shower today,” Sophomore muttered to himself. “Oh well, I took one two weeks ago.”

Sophomore got dressed and walked to his car, which was parked 20 feet from the door of his dorm. As he got in the car, Sophomore couldn’t help but think of how he would never get a spot like this again.

He saw the Campus Master Plan, calling for removal of impervious cover, which included some parking lots but assured the lost spots would “be replaced one-to-one.” He applauded the university’s effort to improve the San Marcos environment but was put off because the plan was a bit hazy on when the replacement would happen.

He had also read the Parking Services Web site.

“There may be times when the closest parking space is located at a perimeter lot,” the Web site said.

The closest perimeter lot to his dorm was at Sessom Drive and Peques Street. This was quite a walk for someone with a class in Derrick Hall.

“I wonder if more residential spots would be available if Texas State allowed sophomores to live off campus,” Sophomore said.

Some of his friends had been told a month before classes began that because of overcrowding, they would be allowed to cancel their housing contracts and live off campus. He remembered the anger they felt about the short notice, which was quickly followed by elation at the thought of apartment life.

Sophomore pulled into the bowling alley parking lot and walked in. After being forced to bowl two games by himself because of the body odor he was emitting, he got in his car and drove back to campus.

“I have to take care of this showering problem soon,” Sophomore thought to himself.

After stalking pedestrians in the perimeter lot (which he liked to call the “shark tank”) for 10 minutes, waiting for someone to get in their car, Sophomore decided to risk getting a ticket and parked along a sidewalk by Jackson.

Sophomore began jogging to his class. On his way to The Quad, Sophomore passed a group of workers erecting a new statue of a Bobcat in full football pads and uniform stiff-arming the other team’s defenders. He guessed the statue was meant to symbolize the university’s drive to the Football Bowl Subdivision. As he got closer to The Quad, he passed another group of workers working on a statue commemorating the builders building the other statue.

“Is the world going crazy?” he wondered. “We’re building statues to commemorate our statues now. Couldn’t all this statue money be used for scholarships or more classes or more parking or something?”

He went on to class.

Later that night, as Sophomore was getting ready for bed, he looked out his window and dreamt of the new Matthews Street Parking Garage.

“Well at least they got one thing right,” Sophomore thought.

—Brett Thorne is a general studies senior.