Fall Fest: Foul Play

By Jordan Hopkins

September 2nd, 2017:

I don’t know how much time I have left. If you’re reading this, it’s possible I may be dead. I’ve barricaded the door with my dresser, but I know that won’t stop them. God, how could I have been so foolish? I can only hope that in my last moments I can explain to you, and to the world, and to anyone willing to listen, that I never meant any of this. This is my story, the story of how I crossed one of the great artists of our time, and incidentally booked the most expensive U2 cover band any university has ever seen.

I love my job. I work in finance for a wonderful college on Long Island called Hofstra University. It’s a good job; the people are nice, the pay is great nice, they almost never tie me to a basketball hoop and throw softballs at me like at my last job, and they have dental! I love nice it here. My job is basically to help book big events! Like concerts and speeches, as well as that day where we celebrate Italy.

In fact, that’s what I was doing this weekend, working thirty-seven consecutive overtime hours to help book this year’s entertainment for Fall Fest, the big fall fest on this sultry, sensuous, campus. I had already picked some good bands that people enjoy and appreciate unironically, like Bad Mary, a band headed by one of the school’s beloved professors. The students at my incredibly sexy university would enjoy that in the most genuine way possible, right? Of course they would.

Perhaps I worked myself too hard. Perhaps I should have paid closer attention and actually read the email that I received that night from “v2thebandofficial@gmail.com” instead of simply responding ‘YES!!!!! NAME YOUR PRICE!!!’ to the highly pixelated stock image of Bono that appeared on my computer screen as I sat down with my twelfth cup of coffee and my sixth line of - oh god. I can hear them pounding on the door now; I don’t have much time left. That professor lifts set pieces like its his fucking job, he’ll be through that real ass door any minute! But now back to my sumptuous testimonial.

So yeah, I did it. I blew my entire $130,000 budget on booking a U2 cover band, thinking it was actually U2. But listen, we all make mistakes -- U2 is maybe the most forgettable great band of all time, and they could totally play here if the right series of Final Destination-style tragic events took place. And while this may not look good on my part, I have to ask: is now really the time to be assigning blame? Right now, as I face death by a drama professor with a metaphorical and also literal axe to grind? Honestly, it doesn’t make sense to assign any blame, of any kind, at all, at any point, in any way, ever, right now.

Needless to say, when Bad Mary himself found out what I’d done, he was quick to let me know that we had beef. I was now the lead in a foul play, a lead who had apparently never considered the impact of the Ramones outside of the vacuum of pop culture. I barely escaped our first encounter by locking him in the WOR offices. God, those poor students who were trapped with him...I’m so sorry. He wants his money, and I don’t have anything for him! I feel like such a fool. I should have known that something was awry when I dropped off that briefcase full of non-sequential bills in the park and it wasn’t Bono who met me to receive them, but a wheezing, 40-something year old man in ski goggles and a Napolinis uniform. Like I said, we all make mistakes, I just never thought this one would cost me so dearly. More specifically, to the tune of $130,000 cash.

Maybe this will all turn out okay. Maybe I can work something out with the aforementioned violently underrated local talent, and this letter will never find its way into your hands. But if it does, I just need to say one thing: I love you, Wayne. I know you wouldn’t be able to write back even in the best of circumstances, but I also know that you’ll find a way to make this right. Be who’ve you always been, the one Lil thing that fixed all my Big mistakes.

*lighter flick...inhale*


God forgive me.