How rich are Colby kids?

Lost and found items at the Information Desk are as follows: several unclaimed Apple watches, box of Louis Vuitton stationary, plane ticket to Geneva, Tiffany’s sterling silver drinking straw, pair of Crocs with diamond Jibbitz, Bugatti car keys, smoothie cup.

“Dude, my car keys are at the info desk,” I shout to my roommate, who is doing a line of coke off of our marble coffee table. He can’t hear me over our surround-sound speaker system, so I clap three times, and the music shuts off.

“Dude, what the heck!?” he asks.

“My car keys are at the Info Desk!”

“Who cares?” he asks.

“That means we can start going to the gym,” I tell him.

“Oh word!” he says. “For sure. Gotta get swole for Spring Break.”

“Where did we decide to go again?” I ask him. “Cabo? Or were we gonna ski in Aspen?”

“Dude, we’re going to my dad’s island, remember?”

“Oh word. That’s gonna be lit.” I take a moment to envision myself, smoking a cigar on Gavin’s dad’s yacht, in nothing but a pair of Chubbies and Gucci sunglasses. Sexy.

I’m definitely going to have work on my abs before then, though, if I am to break 5k likes on my Instagram posts. I mean, my professional photographer, Joe, does a decent job with Photoshop, but he is no magician. And since I lost my car keys last month, I haven’t been able to make it to the gym, given that I cannot possibly walk there and risk getting mud on my Golden Nike Dunks.

I close my eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation of our vibrating, Tempurpedic couches on my back. I really should go to the gym, but can’t bear the thought of having to walk all the way from our five-man in Dana to the Info Desk to get my keys.

Suddenly I get an idea.

“Yo Gav!”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have the number of anyone in the Colby Eight?”

“Yeah, why?” He asks.

“I’m tryna find out what limo service they use.”

“For what?” Gavin asks.

“I’m tryna get them to take me to the gym. I’m not about to walk all the way to the Info Desk to get my keys.”

The Colby Eight’s limo service turns out to be decent enough, though I’m disappointed that there aren’t any naked models to accompany me in the back on our trip to the gym.

At the gym I attempt a few pull-ups before getting embarrassed at my inability. I call the limo service again and head back to Dana.

That night Gav and I order out. Sushi, from Boston. It arrives by drone in half an hour. I decide after a few bites that I don’t much care for Bluefin Tuna, so I  throw it out and place another order for the Sturgeon roll.

“You know what’s funny?” Gavin asks, mouth full of imitation crab.

“What?” I ask.

“Somebody told me there’s a dining hall downstairs. I had no idea.”

“Word,” I say. “Somebody told me that the other day, too. I’ve never gone.”

“Me neither,” Gavin says. “Apparently it’s all you can eat, though, and the food is pretty good.”

“It’s probably awful,” I say.

“Word.”

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