*The Backdoor is a “work” of “fiction” and “satire.”
By Nick Sabatini
Last Wednesday morning, after I ate my early morning breakfast in the Bon, I went to go fill my water bottle as I normally do before heading to class. I placed my water bottle under the water dispenser and watched the water fizz to the top. I screwed the cap back on the bottle and took a sip. The coconut taste hit me as I stepped outside into the crisp, morning air. Wait a second, am I tasting coconut? Is there something wrong with me?
That night, as I brushed my teeth, the water in the bathroom tasted like coconut. The next morning, when I went to get water again, it still tasted like coconut, and it was still bubbly. After ruling out the possibility that I might be going crazy (or maybe I was), I knew there was something wrong. So, being the ammature Pioneer Log news reporter that I am, I decided to investigate. That’s when I learned that after doing their routine tests, facilities confirmed that LC’s municipal water is 92 percent LaCroix. This means that the water in the showers, sinks, toilets, washing machines, the water irrigating the roses in the Estate Gardens — it’s almost all LaCroix.
I was shocked. I mean, I only had LaCroix once in my life. As the news spread, the rest of the LC community didn’t seemed too astonished. LaCroix is everywhere, after all. After I tried the water for the first time, I bought a whole case to stash in my closet. Who can resist the crisp taste of LaCroix?
Facilities doesn’t know how LaCroix entered LC’s water supply. It is possible that the administration decided to switch it’s water source to solve the issue of trash bins overflowing with empty LaCroix cans. As I interviewed the head of facilities, he had no concern about any health risks associated with the sparking water. In fact, he couldn’t stop talking about how tasty our tap water is. I guess we are very privileged, perhaps even spoiled, to enjoy such splendid water.
When walking back to my dorm that evening, I saw the sprinklers watering the lawn. I watched the runoff flow across the sidewalk, bubbling. A small squirrel ran in front of me to sip some of it. I smelled the sweet pamplemousse as I walked by. When I did laundry, the washing machine expanded under pressure as the carbonation built up. All this time, LC students have been carbonating themselves and their clothes in LaCroix. Who knew?
*The Backdoor is a “work” of “fiction” and “humor”