It’s a sultry Tuesday morning in Boston. 25,° windy, and gray outside. You’re still feeling the pangs of the weekend’s residual alcohol in your stomach as you walk to class. You open your phone and BAM! there it is. The boy you fucked last weekend on the bostonu Instagram. It’s Terrier Tuesday, and this is his takeover. 

You didn’t even know he went to BU. I mean, ok, deep down you knew he went to BU, but you didn’t think you’d have to face him this soon. Also, how do people even get to do these things? Did he have to apply? That’s such an ick. You’re instantly transported back to when he offered you a drink, and it was some weird IPA from a company that he swore he knew the owner of. Next thing you knew you were making babies.

So you find out he’s got a VP role in some wildly irrelevant club on campus. Now you get the ins and outs of his whole day. At least you know where you need to avoid. First, he hits the Questrom Starbucks and has a vile fucking order. Grande white mocha with whole milk. Literally a punch to the throat. You should’ve known he was a milk drinker and ran in the other direction before you got yourself into this mess. Now he’s on the shuttle. I guess you’ll be walking today. It’s time for the “ask me anything” portion of the day, and someone asks him what the social scene is like. You have to literally shut your phone. Enough of this madness. 

He caps off his day at FitRec. Shocker. Then he’s off to Chipotle to expose himself with another disgusting order. He doesn’t even get a bowl like a normal person. He gets the tacos. 

Finally, he “signs off” from his apartment in Allston, AKA the scene of the crime. You end your night around the same time – by unfollowing the Boston University Instagram Page. No use entering the tenth circle of hell again next week. Watch out, Terriers, it’s Tuesday.

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