Freshman Uncomfortable to Find Condom in Care Package

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EVANSTON – As McCormick freshman Hank Crowley tore open the first care package sent from his parents, he was surprised to find that, under the bags of candy and boxes of pastries that he had requested, lay a single, individually-wrapped Trojan condom.

When pushed for comment on whether he was expecting the rubber contraceptive to be present among his Reese’s Pieces and Blueberry Pop Tarts, Crowley said, “It was a little weird, because you think if Mom and Dad were going to put something like that in there it’d be sort of up front, but it was all, like, shoved in the bottom under all the bubble-wrap.” Crowley paused and turned the package over in his hands. “It was almost like it wasn’t supposed to be there.”

The condom, which is a Trojan Sensitivity BareSkin Lubricated Latex, was in pristine condition. Crowley’s roommate, Medill freshman Nick Buckholtz, shared, “It’s pretty hilarious, actually. I mean, I’ve seen a lot of condoms in my day, but that one Hank has is, like, a nice-ass condom.”

“Shit.” Buckholtz added, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

Sources have since confirmed that Nick Buckholtz is a huge fucking douchebag.

Adding to the mystery of the condom is the note left by Crowley’s parents. While Crowley has stated that the vast majority of the note contains “pretty run-of-the-mill” news from home, the letter concludes with, “Stay safe!” followed by a heart and a signature from both of the boys’ parents.

“Do you think that’s just a regular old ‘stay safe?’” Crowley asked, “Or is it like the other kind, you know, like . . . for that stuff?”

Crowley initially thought to place the condom safely in the top drawer of his desk, but after a moment of deliberation, began figuring out how to fit it into his wallet. “That’s what they do, right?” the flustered boy asked, looking like he had stumbled upon some alien substance or some shit like that. “Isn’t that where it’s supposed to go? Like, so you can use it for later or—or something?”

Investigators have gathered that the condom never actually found its way to Crowley’s wallet, and instead still resides in his sweaty, fidgeting hands. “It had to have been a mistake by Mom and Dad, don’t you think?” The boy paced back and forth, turning the wrapper over so he could read the label for the fifteenth time. “They—they wouldn’t expect me to be, like, using this thing. No, it fell in there by accident.” Crowley then nodded affirmatively, and tossed the contraceptive onto his desk.

Nick Buckholtz seemed to agree with his roommate. “Yeah, it was definitely not in there for real. Hank’s parents probably know that their kid’s chance of getting anywhere near some va-jay-jay is pretty much microscopic, so they definitely wouldn’t give him a jimmy. I mean, come on, look at him.”

In the days since the care package was delivered, the condom remains unused. However, three more packages have been delivered to Hank Crowley, containing canned pineapple, a massaging neck pillow, and a tube of Astroglide.

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