We’ve all been there. A cute guy in your Zoom math class catches your eye. Intrigued, you pin his video. Though you’ve only seen him from the waist up, you’re certain by his torso alone that he’s the one for you. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? You find out that he skips leg day? Or that he’s prone to wearing paisley-printed cowboy boots? These are small risks to take in the great game of romance.

As the end of the quarter approaches, you shoot your shot and ask him if he might want to go on a Zoom date. After spending a couple of lovely evenings on Zoom, you invite your quarantine cutie to go out for some (socially distanced) coffee. You’re so psyched to finally meet him in person! But, what’s this?! When your date arrives you see a pair of curving, hairy goat legs extending from his Adidas shorts.

The classic satyr switcheroo. It happens to the best of us, myself included. Perhaps I should have seen it coming when my man gushed about his love for playing reed pipes — but what can I say? I love musicians. In retrospect, it was a little weird that his go-to outfit was a scarf but no shirt. But I just assumed he was European or something. Actually, the European thing was the reason I wrote off a lot of his peculiarities. I mean, in France people slurp up buttered snails and no one bats an eye, so I just assumed that his habit of devouring an entire birch tree was simply a mark of continental refinement.

At first, when he trotted up to Coupa, I was a little put off by his cloven hooves. I mean, his shoe game was totally non-existent. Then there was the matter of his legs. I was going to compliment him on his cool shag leg warmers (so comfy chic!) but then I realized his legs were just super hairy. Still, though he may not be waxed, he was certainly vaxxed — so I decided to give things a shot.

We chatted for a little while. He asked me if I wanted to go fountain hopping, and I said sure. Everything was totally fine until the fountain water turned into a woman and slapped him in the face for breaking up with her last quarter. The fight didn’t last long, though — she was late for swim practice and stormed off, weeping. At least, I think she was weeping; it was hard to tell since she was made entirely of water. Before she left, she yelled over her shoulder about how gross it was to have random people sticking their feet in her fountain. Apparently being the delocalized mystic consciousness housed in a pool of water is not super fun when so many CS majors have toe fungus. C’mon guys, you gotta wear shower shoes!

Trying to salvage the date, my hoofed hottie and I decided to work on a math p-set together. I asked him if he understood the difference between Green’s theorem and Stoke’s theorem, but he just said, “It’s all geek to me!” and cackled. It wasn’t very helpful. I’m genuinely concerned I might fail math, since I spent all my class time staring at him instead of taking notes.

Finally, as the night drew to a close, he asked if he could play me an air on his reed pipes. I said sure. At first it was really cool. He was super talented, and you’d be surprised at how good Wonderwall sounds on a woodwind. I couldn’t stop myself from dancing! No, seriously — I actually could not stop myself. The music completely seized control of my legs, forcing me to dance for hours and hours. I danced straight through my Allbirds! I was pretty annoyed because they were new, too.

Still, after all that, I was willing to make like Moderna and give things a second shot. But on the way home he started telling me about how he was really into Dogecoin. Sorry, but I have to draw the line somewhere. I’m out!

Editor’s Note: This article is purely satirical and fictitious. All attributions in this article are not genuine, and this story should be read in the context of pure entertainment only.