A curiously mundane and slightly disappointing endeavor

It was a sad attempt at festive decoration. The pale green gourds, tiny and awkwardly shapen, appeared to be misplaced. Perhaps they were healthy gourds in their natural habitat of crispy leaves, disintegrating haystacks and the redolence of apple cider, but pressed up against a sliding glass window in the Campus Safety Office, the perturbingly phallic-shaped fruit withered into itself, anemically, and its presence struck me as unnecessary. I pondered for a moment about the tradition of decorating one's home or one's office place with such odd-looking Cucurbitaceae that are commonly mistaken for vegetables. I felt sorry for the poor things. I have been in environments that felt alien to me--I have felt like those little pathetic gourds, quivering wordlessly, awkward, in the corner.

--Just as I was sympathizing with the fall decorations, the window slid open.
"Sorry that took so long," nodding sideways, to the two-way radio. I blinked and, remembering where I was, proceeded to tell the absurdly thin blond chick about my missing bag.
"It's just--uh, a regular--plastic grocery bag, but it has my karate pants in it. And, uh, my black gloves and a sandwich with only one bite taken out--it was gross so I didn't eat it--I bought a bagel instead, at the Moose, you know--which is where--or when, I mean, I lost my bag. NoImean I realized it was gone when I got my bagel which came with cream cheese that I also didn't eat." At that point I vowed never to drink full strength coffee after serious sleep deprivation; when I do, I come across as an illiterate escapee from an institution who wandered onto campus and managed to chew off her straight jacket.

She blinked. "I'll take a look."

She began delicately fingering through various bits of lost key chains and cell phones that had accumulated in a narrow drawer, three times too small to fit the kind of bag I clearly described. I felt my left eyebrow raise involuntarily. Annoyed, I told her not to worry about it. I blinked sleepiness out of my eyes--a final wink to my squash friends--and exited out the door.