Heartbreak ensued in JJ’s this Thursday, and it wasn’t just because of the absence of mac ‘n’ cheese bites. After a sorority formal night, Ralph Spencer, CC ‘25, mistook a run-of-the-mill ketchup inquiry as something more.
“I thought it was finally my moment,” Spencer lamented. “I had just come as a study break from Butler, and I was wearing my finest JJ’s attire—sweats, a hoodie that didn’t match, and my 270’s—when two girls approached me. A thousand thoughts flashed through my mind; I thought I had a chance. Maybe they want my number, or just to tell me how cool my Wario hoodie is. They kept looking at each other as they approached and gestured towards me, giggling about something. I was ecstatic—this is it! But when they got to my table, they just asked ‘Can we borrow this ketchup?’
I mean, I get it. Those nuggets need sauce, and not everyone understands the exquisite culinary strategy of mixing BBQ, mustard, and mayo like me. But still, just the ketchup? No introduction, no questions, no further interest? My nuggets deserved to be sauced too! I was devastated. Made the rest of the night in Butler real hard.”
Spencer’s account has prompted other brave souls to come forward with their own very uncomfortable empty ketchup bottle stories.
“I was eating a late-night French toast when a cute guy from my Lit Hum came up to me,” said Angela Hall, CC ‘24. “I said hi to him by name, thinking he might want to talk, but he was just after my ketchup, that shallow idiot. He didn’t even pretend to forget what the reading was.”
