The pretty colored version of what I foisted on some of you earlier today. Tell me you don't like the pink feathers.

Bella Wang ’12 explores the trials and tribulations of that ubiquitous Harvard staple: the flyer distributor.

eing the trustworthy and dutiful Harvard Ballroom team member that I was, I spent my lunch hour today bugging the crap out of any of the good citizens of Harvard University that were unlucky enough to pass through the paper gauntlet that spans the stretch between Annenberg and the Science Center.  Now, whenever you go flyering, you always face the moral dilemma between being a nice, kind, and polite person and making sure that no one misses what undoubtedly will be the A Capella Ballroom Dancing Health Policy Debate Speech Gala Extravaganza of the Century.  Trust me, guys, you have to come see Burn the Floor this Saturday evening because when you’re sixty years old, your grandchildren will be asking you about the time you watched the Adams, Currier, and Quincy house masters square off in tango, Dancing with the Stars style.  If you don’t come, those grandchildren will cry, and then you’ll regret fixedly staring at the floor/sky/person in front of you/Invisible Pink Unicorn instead of meeting my eyes and just taking the damn flyer.

And no, by the way, you aren’t actually saving paper by not taking my flyers. We already printed them, you see?  It’s your civic duty to recycle them!  If you don’t, we’ll hold those quarter-sheets of paper hostage in the non-recycling trash bin outside the Science Center, see if we don’t!

Now, normally, when scoping out a base of operations, you have to consider your target audience more carefully than a public relations firm.  No upperclassman in his right mind would ever accept flyers from a stranger because you never know what kind of methamphetamine might be in it (although I’m sure most upperclassmen will accept candy from strangers).  No, you have to target the freshmen, preferably the ones that have as of yet neither perfected the Don’t Look at Me Don’t Look at Me walk nor learned how to stare me down with a brazen refusal.  With this consideration in mind, the lone flyerer would do well to be positioned conveniently on the road in front of Annenberg rather than in front of the Science Center.  After all, whether or not freshmen go to class, they have no choice but to eat.

This particular occasion was a little different than usual because somewhere or another the Ballroom team had managed to dredge up five or six other volunteers for the first shift, thus allowing us to spread out and form road blocks on every conceivable exit from the area.  At 11:30, I planted myself on the path leading to Oxford Street because as it turns out, grad students are also really easy targets.

11:40. First tourist group walks by.
11:47. Someone tries to sneak behind me, but I whip around and triumphantly thrust a quarter-sheet of paper in his face.  Thought you could outwit me, huh?
11:52. I discover that sometimes you can get people to accept flyers simply by holding the piece of paper out to them for a second too long.  The key to successful flyering is a combination of cheeriness, charm, and skilled cultivation of their sense of potential awkwardness should they refuse.
12:01. Fourth tourist group passes by.  This one is an Unofficial Tour.  I think they were shouting something about how ugly the Science Center is and how the hardest classes are on the highest floors.  I’m sure the Math 55 people on the second floor would totally agree with that last part.
12:05. Time becomes a blur, and my soul climbs to the highest reaches of zen and nirvana as I gradually deplete my stack of paper.  Okay, that was a lie.
12:45. Oh, look, time for the second shift to take over.  Hey, they have like 5% of the flyers left.  Lesson learned, kids: always take the later shift just in case the first shift does too good of a job and nearly runs out of flyers.

Job finally done, I ran to Fly-By to grab some lunch and headed toward the Greenhouse Cafe for dessert in the form of an apple danish.  Man, what was with all those people doing publicity for Harvard Hungama and what I assume was Pfoho’s 90s dance?  Look, I’m a busy person, so no, I don’t want your flyer.  Who hands out actual sheets of paper these days, anyway?  Can’t they see what a huge waste of trees that is?

Harvard House Masters pair up with Harvard Ballroom team members to learn how to dance.
Suneel and Quincy House Master Deb

Video courtesy of harvardballroom.org