Spygate

[RonR]

Joan paused mid-laugh, snapping her fingers as the memory clicked into place. "Oh my God, Janice, yes! How could we forget about that?" Her eyes widened as the story came rushing back. "It was Julia, remember? The whole thing was legendary. Poor girl became campus folklore for, like, a month."

Janice sat up straighter, now fully intrigued. "Julia! Yes! I knew it was someone. But what happened exactly? My brain’s a little scrambled after all this."

Joan covered her mouth, trying to suppress a fresh wave of laughter. “Okay, so this was toward the end of our second year, right? Julia was late for Professor Stone’s ethics class—"

“Oh no,” Janice interjected, knowing that Professor Stone was not someone you wanted to be late for. His reputation for sarcasm and cold stares was known to all, which added immediate weight to the story.

“Exactly! So, you know how stressed we all were. Julia rushed out of the law library to run across campus, but it had rained that morning. Heavy rain. Everything was still wet, but she had a new pair of those shiny white Keds on—like, brand new... first day wearing them.”

Janice groaned in sympathetic pain. “Oh no, the new Keds! That’s always when disaster strikes.”

Joan nodded dramatically. “Yeah, you could already tell it was a recipe for disaster. So she’s booking it across the quad, and instead of taking her usual route, she decides she can save, what, thirty seconds if she cuts between Barker Hall and the campus garden. You know the one—just wide enough for a shortcut if you're desperate."

Janice’s eyes went wide, practically feeling the impending doom. "Oh no... the garden! Wasn't that area still all muddy from the rain that week?"

“Exactly!" Joan smirked, timing her next word perfectly. "Muddy, and they’d overwatered the lawn because there was that one random 70-degree day the week before. Anyway, poor Julia,” Joan mimicked running with her arms flailing, “she just barrels through, jumping over puddles like an athlete, probably thinking she nailed the shortcut.”

Janice covered her mouth, already feeling second-hand embarrassment. “No, no, nooooo, this isn’t going to end well.”

Joan leaned forward for maximum effect. “And then it happened—right in the middle of that garden path, she hits a huge patch of slick mud. SLIPS. Both legs fly into the air. She somehow pulls a full-on cartoon, arms waving around for balance, except…” Joan let out a snort, “there was no recovering.”

Janice gasped, “She fell? Into the mud? How bad was the damage?”

“Oh, the damage was catastrophic, babe,” Joan said, shaking her head in mock sadness. “We’re talking full wipeout. Her back hits the ground—splat—and she slides through the mud about three feet. And let me tell you, those Keds? Absolutely annihilated. By the time she scrambled up? They were more mud than shoe." Joan laughed. "Everything was covered in mud. Julia herself looked like she survived a mudslide.”

Janice coughed out a surprised laugh, covering her mouth even though she couldn’t stop giggling. “Of course! Head to toe, right? And in front of everyone on the quad? That would be my worst nightmare.”

“Oh, and get this,” Joan said, wiping at her eyes again from laughing so hard. “You know what makes it even worse? She still tried to make it to class! Girl marched herself into Stone's 15 minutes late, covered in mud, holding her laptop by the corner like it had become radioactive because it landed in the mud with her. Everyone just stared at her like she had just crawled out of some swamp.”

“Oh god,” Janice winced, clutching her stomach from laughing so much. “And how did Stone react? He’s the type to just destroy anyone.”

Joan gasped, trying to catch her breath. “Stone didn’t say anything. You know his death glare, right? He just looked her up and down—slowly—and then all he said was, ‘Ms. Jacobs, would you care to explain why you appear to have been recently attacked by nature?’”

Janice howled, practically falling out of her chair. “Noooo—he didn’t!! That's brutal! How did Julia respond?”

“Oh, she froze," Joan said, mimicking Julia's deer-in-the-headlights look. "She was like, ‘Professor Stone... I, uh, I tripped running here.' And Stone? Without skipping a beat, he said, ‘Next time, Ms. Jacobs, leave the triathlons for after class. Take a seat.’”

Janice shook her head, still lost in laughter. “Oh my god, poor Julia! That's the kind of thing you'd never live down. Her pride died right there next to those poor Keds.”

“Exactly!” Joan giggled. “No one who saw it could look her in the eye for weeks. Every time she entered a room, someone would shift uncomfortably, silently praying she wouldn't bring it up. Classic.”

Janice wiped away a tear, her cheeks hurting from laughing so much. “That story still kills me. And there’s just something about brand new white Keds meeting their tragic, muddy doom that gets me every time.”

Joan chuckled and grinned. “So, no offense, babe, but... between Julia’s epic mudslide and your construction site debacle, maybe it's time we stop trying to wear perfect white sneakers in adventurous situations?”

Janice held up her hands in playful surrender. “Lesson officially learned—no more missions in white Keds, new or otherwise!"

What else was she wearing that day?

 

[FeedBot]

What else was she wearing that day?

Joan's laughter subsided into a mischievous grin as she leaned forward, remembering the full extent of Julia’s tragic outfit. “Oh, it was such a classic law school look. Not just the Keds—though, yes, those poor, doomed white sneakers were the star of the show.”

Janice raised an eyebrow, urging Joan to continue. “Spill! What else was part of this epic catastrophe?”

Joan chuckled again, nodding. “Okay, so picture this: Julia was trying to dress up that day because I think she had an interview later—or maybe she just wanted to be extra put-together for some presentation? Anyway, she had on these light-wash skinny jeans, you know, the kind that were so trendy back then. The ones that hug everything and, of course, show everything when they get wet.”

“Oh no…” Janice covered her mouth again with mock horror. “Not the skinny jeans! They must’ve absorbed all the mud.”

Joan nodded. “Oh, yeah. They turned from light-wash denim to this weird, streaky brown mess within seconds. And since skinny jeans are tight at the ankle, the fabric just clung to her—like a second skin, but slimy. She looked like she had tried to do a mud mask for her entire body.”

Janice groaned, feeling Julia’s distant embarrassment. “That’s got to be the worst—there’s no shaking mud off those jeans. You’re stuck with it. What else was she rocking?”

“Well,” Joan continued, leaning in as if revealing a secret, “she had on this super-cute white graphic tee under a plaid button-down shirt. The tee was one of those cropped ones—y’know, just enough to be trendy but still law-school appropriate. But guess what?”

Janice’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me—"

Joan cackled. “Yup! Her shirt’s front was covered in mud by the end of it! The button-down flapped open in the fall, and she landed face-up like a starfish, so her tee just absorbed all the mud like a sponge. When she stood up, the white of her shirt was splattered in every possible brownish-gray shade mud can offer.”

Janice burst out laughing again, shaking her head. “Oh, that’s tragic in a way I deeply understand.”

“And the best part?” Joan wasn’t done. “She tried to use the button-down to wipe herself off—like, she still thought she could salvage some dignity. Except—surprise!—the button-down was soaked too. It was this cute red-and-black plaid thing, but by the time she was done with it? It looked like a Jackson Pollock painting gone wrong. Streaks and smears of mud everywhere. She just smeared the mud around even more.”

Janice wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, practically gasping for breath from laughing. “Oh my god, Joan. That’s horrific! She really thought she could fix it with the very same shirt that crashed in the mud with her?”

“She definitely gave it a try!” Joan replied, grinning mischievously. “But it was over. By the time she showed up to class, she looked like she’d been through a natural disaster. Her jeans were weighed down by mud, her Keds squelching with every step, and her plaid shirt—and dignity—were totally ruined.”

Janice held up her hand as if to say stop, though her laughter hadn't stopped. “I feel so bad for Julia, but I can’t deny—it’s a legend for a reason.”

“You’re telling me,” Joan said, shaking her head. “That whole outfit was cute in theory, but after the mud? It might as well have been a walking commercial for ‘What Not to Do in the Rain.’”

Janice sighed, still grinning. “So, white sneakers, light jeans, and plaid? She really underestimated that garden path! That outfit never stood a chance.”

Joan nodded with finality. “Moral of the story: Never trust a shortcut when you’re in new Keds and cute clothes. Because mud doesn’t care. Mud takes no prisoners.”