Guest reporters from the Disincentive confirmed this week that Zeke Lloyd ‘23 is still on campus. Considering his recent graduation during the December ceremony, this comes as a surprise to many campus community members. According to dispatches from our reliable team of enhanced surveillance squirrels, Lloyd continues to participate in his usual array of unhinged activities, seemingly unaware that he is no longer a student. His presence puzzles faculty, staff, administrators and students.
“Last Monday he offered me an edible at 8:50 a.m.,” said Tommy Ryan ‘25. “I told him I had class in ten minutes, but he just laughed and said he had a job interview at 8:45. He kept on giggling for a while then gobbled down what must have been at least 30 milligrams of THC.”
Lloyd continues to perform at Sun Butter, write in The Catalyst, and intermittently steal industrial portions of coffee from the Office of Admission. He claims to work part-time in Colorado Springs, although the nature of his work is not well-understood. We think it might have something to do with foreign investments. After sitting down for an interview, he admitted his post-college plans have not yet materialized.
“I’ll figure it out after I graduate in June,” said Lloyd.
After a few difficult minutes, Lloyd conceded that he did, in fact, already graduate. Realizing the jig was up, he entered a state of panic and began spewing political commentary about the upcoming 2024 presidential campaign.
“Joe Biden? Yea. Hell Yea. I voted for him last time. Of course I’ll do it again. Write that down. Put that out there. Why aren’t you writing?” said Lloyd.
Faculty and staff have begun to articulate concern about Lloyd’s well-being. Last week, Bon Appetit employees spotted him gazing into Rastall, his face set in its usual expression of longing. And, after wandering into EC 102, Principles of Macroeconomics, he told everyone he was a member of the class of 2028. The ruse did not last long. Lloyd selected a poor cover story — the class of 2028 will not arrive on campus until this coming fall.
“If I’m taking my next steps, maybe it’s time for him to think about moving on too,” hypothetically said L. Song Richardson, President of Colorado College. “I know it’s hard, but sometimes we have to have Courageous Conversations with ourselves.”
Despite his prolonged presence on campus, no member of the administration has expressed concern about the lingering alumni.
“Oh, he’s harmless,” hypothetically said Pedro de Arauja, Chief Operating Officer and Dean of the College. “I once saw him drop a sandwich on the sidewalk, pick it up, put it to his mouth, and then drop it again once a nearby chipmunk initiated a shakedown.”
“We took away his swipe access,” hypothetically said Cathy Buckley, Director of Campus Safety. “What could he do?”
“They still haven’t taken away my swipe access,” said Lloyd. “I’m actually able to get into more buildings than before.”
At one point during our interview, after a question about his favorite college memory, Lloyd slid a small piece of ripped notebook paper across the table with a coy expression.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the note was blank. And, instead of recanting a treasured moment from the last three and a half years, Lloyd started talking about the differences between a traditional IRA and a Roth IRA. Then he asked what tax bracket I expected to be in at age 65, saying it was “very important context for retirement planning.”
The blank note, midday consumption and unprompted commentary are parts of a puzzle I slowly pieced together over the course of our interview.
He has no reason to be here nor any reason to leave. He acts as he did when he was a student, but without any of the rationale. He is an automatron, his wires infinitely wound, forever generating motion without direction.
I wondered then, sitting across from him, if he was happy. If nonstop movement created a sense of purpose, or if that was the one thing he couldn’t create himself.
Then he picked up his phone and flashed me a sheepish grin.
“Shawty situation,” he said. He held out his hand. I shook it. Then I watched him bound away.