Applied Math major Steven Warburton was recently discovered in a Brody study room overlooking the Beach, where the amount of bodily waste and empty Daily Grind coffee cups suggested he had been there for at least a week. Warburton, however, believes he has been bunkered in Brody for at least a few months, according to a new algorithm he has developed based on the number of people on the beach. During his enclosure, he says, he observed some peculiar phenomena that seemed irregular for what he believed to be March. The BNBJ got an exclusive interview.

“On the first day, the Beach seemed almost empty, except for 4 clusters of students,” he began.  “At least seven frisbee throws were both caught and returned,” he added, matter-of-factly.  “There was one old man with a dog, drinking an unknown substance out of a brown paper bag.”

“The next day, the Beach was full by 11 am.  There were exactly 112 bare legs and 13 concurrent games of Kan Jam.  All of the players were caucasian, and they all had the same haircut,” he continued, rubbing his eyes. “I wonder if that has any statistical significance.”

“By day three, I knew something was horribly wrong,” Warburton said, shuddering visibly. “The large influx of children, dogs, and amorous couples preparing for intercourse could only have appeared during the spring. I immediately began calculating how the density of shirtless volleyball players correlated to the number of poorly hidden 40 ounce bottles and the volume of smoke rising from a group of people standing in a circle and passing a ‘cigarette.’”

“Day four, or what might have been five, consisted of re-calibrating the algorithm to account for the decibel level of Sia music currently playing. The days began to blend together. Looking around Brody was no help as it was literally always full.”

“Time dragged on. And then, there were the tours. They poured by my window in droves, for days, years. I lost count of how many overbearing mothers I saw (but there were at least thirty). I also tallied how many of the kids looked miserably embarrassed. It was too many — there were so many of them — it just doesn’t make sense. It can’t be March.”

When the BNBJ later explored the Brody room, 2005, our staff found fifty-two tally marks scratched into the whiteboard labeled “Sad Kids.” The marker was left untouched. One staff writer called it “extra.”

The BNBJ staff asked Warburton when he thought he was. “According to my calculations, and I know my math, it is at least late April. It’s clearly the lull before finals because everyone is out on the goddamn beach.”

We chose to let Warburton believe this, as it seemed easier. He added, “That means Spring Fair is coming up, and I’m really excited to see the Chainsmokers!”