Fade from black into the morning, grainy sun peeking through the amorphous grey clouds frosting the blue cake sky, the tint unpredictably darker in patches above great green fields. The camera pans to Lucy, laying in bed with her hair tousled and her cherubic countenance — it’s clear she has been sleeping, but she looks like she’s fully made herself up in the hopes of convincing the audience that she naturally looks this good. The red numbers on her bedside alarm clock switch from 5:59 to 6:00, and the radio switches on. The gentle melody of “Dance (A$$)” fills the room, and white letters flash across the screen — the next episode of “I Don’t Love Lucy But I Do Like Her A Lot” has begun.
Lucy groggily stretches her arms above her head and jumps out of bed. She does a spin move and is suddenly fully dressed, ready to take on the day. The camera cuts to her shoes as she bops around on her carpeted floors. Her feet leave the floor, and when they land again, she’s walking up 14th Street.
Strewn next to her white Reeboks are crushed cans of beer, red plastic cups and puddles of suspicious liquids. As her foot lands in a particularly chunky pile of slush, Lucy knowingly smiles and wipes her bare hand across the stain on her shoe. She raises the substance to her nose and inhales — “Floko vom,” she laughs to her companion. “The drinking habits of people at U.Va. are so totally adorable.” Lucy gazes endearingly at her friend as they step through a cloud of vape smoke and past a house blasting Mr. Brightside. Today is shaping up to be the latest in a line of perfect Mondays.
Cut to class. Lucy is sitting in her politics lecture, listening to a male professor explain Lockean theory about the natural rights of man, which includes the right to property. Mid-note taking, she remembers that Locke only intended that these rights be extended to white men, and that the institution of marriage began as a contract formalizing a man’s ownership of a woman. And then Lucy remembers that Lockean theory is fundamental to both the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. And then Lucy thinks about men like Brett Kavanaugh, who objectify and undermine women but are still given significant institutional power — and she wonders if maybe the moral basis of the United States’ governing systems is flawed, built upon broken ideas. And then Lucy crunches on a hummus-covered carrot.
Lucy continues throughout her day, singing with the various songbirds around Grounds, comically dropping a pile of papers in the middle of the classroom, and laughing with her one very clearly alt best friend and the unassuming male character who makes up the third member of her best friend trio. The three giggle over a shared pizza, and Lucy for a moment forgets that she’s eating in a town where nearly a fifth of the residents are . Pizza sauce remains on her chin as she smiles at her friends, and Lucy appears thankful to live in a place as perfect as Charlottesville. The screen fades to black, and credits roll as “Just Another Day in Paradise” fills the stereo.
Lucy Hopkins is a Humor Columnist for The Cavalier Daily. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.