Travisty

‘Bob’, in the spirit of the romantic season, takes a lesson from the classic rom-com.

Inspired by the journalistic pursuits of Andie Anderson, a thorough investigation was carried out in our hallowed college, and this writer is pleased to share her success with the devout readers of Travisty.

Day 1

First meeting in that most romantic of places, the college bar. Where else to ignite a romance? You order a Trinity Blue, he orders a Trinity Red — already, sparks are flying. As he leaves to take an important call with his financial advisor, you commit the ultimate of cocktail sins — mixing a Trinity Purple — for the two of you to share. Trinity Guy returns, disturbed but not put off so easily. He invites you to the rugby the next day: some of the lads are playing, and he assures you it’s always pure jokes. A second date is secured…

Day 2

Determined to accomplish her goal, this writer remained true to the reference material. You meet Trinity Guy at the rugby, decked in your finest Trinity stash. As the end of the match nears, mere seconds remaining, you prepare to ask for a lemonade — but of course, this is a Trinity rugby match, and Trinity Guy is all too happy to miss the final moments of humiliation. Perhaps further research into the college rugby season was required.

Day 3

Of course, this is Cambridge, and Trinity Guy is no exception to the workload that hounds us all. So, what better time to drop by his room than during a supervision? The first few knocks on the door go unheard, but undeterred, you continue to pester him until he relents on opening up. Ignore his look of frustration and make sure to greet his bewildered supervisor. Eventually, he agrees to talk to you later, and sure enough, you hunt him down in the library that very afternoon. Of course, in the film, Andie talks through the movie, but Trinity Guy doesn’t have time for such frivolities as cinema, hardline STEM student that he is, so the library will do. After half an hour of conversation loud enough to rival that of the freshers, the two of you are eventually approached by a bold postgrad with the tell-tale look of someone who hasn’t seen daylight in many hours. Alas, no fisticuffs occur, but a threat to call the porters is enough encouragement for the two of you to leave.

Day 4

Wednesday night can only mean one thing — the desperate scramble to find someone who is hosting pres before Revs. You are in luck — you have overheard in hall that Trinity Guy himself will be having a few people over at 9 pm. To really maximise the time the two of you spend together, you decide to arrive half an hour early. You forgot to bring drinks for yourself, but he has a bottle of champagne from a vineyard he visited on his gap year that he’s been saving for a special occasion. And what occasion could be more special? You help yourself to a glass, or three, and people finally begin to arrive with more drinks. It isn’t long before you decide that, now you’ve been going enthusiasm, Trinity Guy lets you approach him steady for more than half a week, it’s the perfect time to ask him to be your college husband! He may laugh you off, but stay strong — after five or six times of asking (and several rum and cokes), he’s sure to agree in the end. To celebrate, you decide to dedicate a song to him. In the film, Andie sings You’re So Vain, but for Trinity Guy, the most apt song in this situation is perhaps Pulp’s Common People. Make sure to play the full extended version.

Day 6

Power through lectures, hungover. Trinity Guy will

have to take the sideline for a day.

Day 7

Friday night rolls around, without a single text from Trinity Guy. Now we’re getting there. Trinity Guy is a member of a wittily-named jazz/a cappella/classical band with some mates from school, who are performing at an open jam this evening. You make sure to loudly cheer at the end of every song, and in the middle of them, too. Buoyed by this false enthusiasm, Trinity Guy lets you approach him afterwards, where you proceed to talk to him at great length about how much you just can’t stand jazz/a cappella/classical music. Because, really, who actually enjoys jazz?

Day 8

A slight deviation from the source material is required here on day 8: in the film, Andie nicknames her date’s penis as ‘Princess Sophia’. This is, alas, not feasible, because Princess Sophia is actually a not-too-distant cousin of Trinity Guy. Instead, you decide upon a much more personal insult: telling him that you think all natscis/mathmo/engineers (pick as applicable) are really studying Mickey Mouse degrees. If you’re lucky, the proposition may unsettle him so deeply that he stops replying to texts altogether. Or maybe that’s just how Trinity Guys text.

Day 9

It’s Sunday, a rare day of leisure in college. Trinity Guy’s mummy and daddy are up to visit for the day, to make sure their darling boy is staying out of trouble. What better time to introduce yourself to them? However, upon hearing their names, you commit the ultimate faux pas: ‘Oh, I think I read an article about you in the Daily Mail!’ Cue five minutes of tensely polite conversation, before being pulled aside for a chat with Trinity Guy. It’s just poor form, 

he says, to go around dragging the family name through the dirt. God forbid.

Day 10

The final day of the investigation, and while this writer’s skin is thick, Trinity Guy’s patience is running ever thinner. To decompress, he has a few of the lads round, just for a pint or two, with some poker and cigars. Make sure to loudly interrupt any and all attempts at conversation with questions such as ‘But where IS Tignes?’, and repeatedly telling Trinity Guy that he is banned from après — you’ve heard what they get up to.

Epilogue

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Trinity man in possession of a good fortune will never have the emotional maturity to express any real emotion. Thus, Trinity Guy is still at large. He may even be someone you know…