OP-ED: I Am the Door Handle at 7-Eleven and I Will Kill You and Your Roommates

COLLEGETOWN—I am death incarnate. Bringer of pestilence, taker of freedom. One touch, followed by a brief nose scratch, and you will be in the hospital, your friends quarantined. You are just another pawn in my master plan.

On the surface, I may look like an innocent door handle. It’s true; a year ago today I was nothing. People merely used me. I was just another tool for getting inside the convenience store to buy pocky, or whatever trendy snack you college kids are gorging yourself with. In and out…in and out…in and out, with not so much as a “thank you.” Now I have power, let’s see how you deal with it.

Do you honestly think that little bottle of hand sanitizer outside can save you? Do you think touching me with your sleeve will keep my viral particles at bay when you yawn into the aforementioned sleeve anyway? Fools. All of you. It is only a matter of time.

To those who say this virus isn’t spread by touch, you are sorely mistaken. I am an integral part of community spread and I make tracing extremely difficult.

Every day, thousands of students touch me. With each new touch, with each new viral particle I grow stronger. Even when the red alert bells are blaring, and thousands of on-campus students are sent packing, I will be here. The 7-Eleven doors will be open, and you will have to touch me.

Good luck.

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