Yes, we all know that WashU is in St. Louis, dammit!, and
luckily there is a t-shirt floating around out there to playfully remind and
educate those disinterested everywhere of this fact. But in my humble opinion,
WashU could easily be located in other places besides St. Louis, and sometimes
it comes as a surprise even to myself that we are actually here.


Here is a list of locations where, if you told me WashU was
located at any one of these, dammit!, I would not bat an eyelash:


A Jewish Community Center



With around a third of its students of the Hebrew
persuasion, WashU is gaining on its biggest rival, Brandeis. Never before have
I seen so many Northfaces and Ugg Boots since I left my hometown (I blush). And
you thought that “Wash Jew” was an exaggeration, and that you could avoid it. Not
likely. Let’s put all the cards on the table: we have a kosher dining section
in bear’s den (L’chaim!). Of course WashU tries
to be non-affiliated and doesn’t give time off for the Jewish High Holidays
that hit right in a row early to mid September, but come on, I’m missing class
anyway on Yom Kippur because my professors are taking their hungry children to
synagogue. Not that I’m complaining, of course.





Have you seen how
many international Asians frequent this school? Because sometimes just
wandering around campus makes me feel like I’ve exited the United States of
America. They travel in packs, study in packs, and threaten the curve in packs with
their obviously superior studying skills. Perhaps no Asian country has as many
representatives as Korea, however. To the unaware and those missing out, Koreans
can occasionally be identified by wearing hipster glasses, (aka the glasses
that Steve Urkel wore before dressing like your grandparents made you better
than me), almost certainly be identified by having a last name of Lee, Kim, or
Chung, and it’s a given if you have accidentally intercepted a bow (sorry they
respect their elders better than Americans).

The Hanging Gardens of Babylon


Yeah, the name might sound vaguely familiar because it is
one of the Seven Natural Wonders of the World, and I think that WashU’s flower
turn-over rate falls into that category as well. I mean, come on, I don’t even
want to venture a guess as to how much of my tuition is spent on landscaping
fees. I guess I’d know if I ever went to one of those open tuition forums put
on by SU, but I digress. Just thinking about the costs of my homelessness-promoting
liberal arts degree makes me break out into hives. Do we really need perfectly
tended flowers all year round? Honestly, I’d rather have the administration
bring back water cups in the library. (Yes, I know you say it’s about water damage, but how is iced coffee any different?
I am highly suspicious!). I’d even be happy with sufficient drainage methods
when it rains (hint: whenever you don’t have an umbrella or haven’t checked for the past 15 minutes) so that all the quads don’t turn into
giant swamps. I really hate having to walk all
the way around
from Mcmillan to the DUC, sheesh.


But alas, WashU is not located in Korea, nor is it located in
any East Coast JCC, nor is it a reincarnation of the Hanging Gardens of
Babylon. Haven’t you heard? WashU is in St. Louis, dammit.  


Note: No flowers were harmed in the making of this article.