It’s Who You Nose: Inside the Sorority Cocaine Trade

After thorough investigation, WUnderground’s top journalists have concluded that “Sorority Bid Day” is actually a front for the largest annual cocaine shipment into Missouri. Under the innocent guise of a looks-based popularity competition, more than 200 tons of the drug circulated come through St. Louis annually. While WashU’s administration has applauded the Panhellenic Association for fostering arete, leadership, and community service, they were unaware of the ways in which the sororities were implementing their core values.  

Picture the scene: It’s bid day. Hundreds of young women pile into the streets. Sorority President Julia Goldenberg cuts the girls into rows, neatly lining them up. The girls are restless, shaking with excitement. Eyes bulging, pulses racing, and hearts rapidly thumping to the tune of “Boom Boom I Want to Go Pi Blow Phi.”  It’s a winter wonderland themed bid day, so a layer of fluffy snow covers the campus. 

After months of investigative efforts, we have deemed the genuine joy expressed by students at bid day suspicious. Despite the fact that this is the biggest event of the Washington University in St. Louis panhellenic social calendar (besides Delta Chi’s basement rager), we find it too hard to believe that WashU students are capable of enjoying themselves at parties. 

Our investigation questioned one of the most fundamental truths of our modern society: the party scene at Washington University is wack. For years, WashU has prided itself on having a “lowkey” greek life compared to other campuses. Ask any WashU Staff about campus nightlife and their first response will be “You mean Ursa’s?” Yet, there may be another explanation for why professors consistently view their students as “lame” and “homebodies.” Perhaps WashU’s party scene isn’t nonexistent, it’s just underground. If a secret party scene actually existed, what would compel the greek community to keep their ragers on the DL? 

Something about the bid day didn’t add up, and we were determined to find out what it was. Our confidential source—a new member of Beta Iota Chi (BIChi as the students call it)—decided to turn in her new sisters after receiving a subpar Big/Little basket. She has attempted to contact WUPD on numerous occasions but has yet to have her calls returned. (WUPD is currently engaged in an investigation into the margarita mix problem on campus. As a result, the officers have chosen to put their other cases, including the alleged drug trafficking operation and the “minor” uptick in barbarous off-campus robberies, on hold until they neutralize the margarita mix threat). Frustrated by WUPD’s inaction, the unnamed new BIChi member alerted WUnderground of the cartel in order to expose them. 

The investigative team conducted a covert stakeout in an effort to study the girls as they are greeted by their new phams. They jumped around excitedly and flung themselves onto each other. Yet, amidst the excitement, no one noticed as small dime bags passed between the hands of sisters as they embraced one another. As it turns out, your fellow classmates are drug mules. 

WUnderground was able to obtain some of the cartel’s financial records. After reviewing the files, we found that the cartel is hemorrhaging cash due to multiple critical miscalculations in their expenditure reports. Throughout their spreadsheets, we located numerous simple math errors, including the sum of seven plus three as eleven. Additionally, all of the cartel’s taxes have been filed in Comic Sans. Their head accountant, a Sophmore in the Olin School of Business, declined to comment. 

When asked about the situation, Chancellor Martin expressed alarm, frustration, and a tinge of FOMO, as he was not invited to the bid day celebrations. “We thought their funding applications were to finance Bachelor watch parties and sorority sleepovers. Not fucking cocaine.”