Turner Times, Vol. 1

By Carter Krusz ’20 and Luke Stone ’20

Dear Journal,

This week really was a steep learning curve. Because my adviser is a new teacher, I was tasked with waiting our advisory table on Sunday. Much to my surprise, we share a table with another adviser who has four Old Boys, all of whom were available to fill-in for me, and none of whom chose to do so. I was on a nice roll by 6:42, but when I arrived at the beltline with my cups facing up, one dining hall employee said, “Young man, go back to your station and get your cups facing the right way.” I asked if I could just set it down on the tray racks and finish it, but he was insistent that I head back to my table, tucked all the way in the far corner of the dining hall, to finish the job. I thought I had made good time when halfway through my stroll to the beltline, the meal was dismissed, and a half dozen random kids stopped me to put their coffee mugs into my already overflowing tray. I set the tray down on the belt at 6:50 and went to the coat rack. My blazer had gone missing. Already. Forced to navigate the pandemonium of new year chapel seating, I, blazerless and afraid, began sweating through my white button-down to the point it appeared I was shirtless. Every passing faculty member remarked, “Where is your blazer?” Some old, old man named Mr. Reimers, clad in a t-shirt and paint-plastered Dickies, simply muttered the words “demerits” and strolled out.

Categories: Humor