Dear Wesleyan,
You’re a bunch of damned fools. Allow me to elaborate:
I rarely subject myself to the hellish torment that is the Usdan Marketplace Lunchtime Rush (UMLR). But sometimes your class ends at 12:30 and your next one begins at 1:10 and you gotta face the music (and the lines).
When I do ascend those winding steps and announce, “Points, please,” I am quick to strategize the fastest escape route. Obviously, I should always just go with pizza. People at the pizza station are fast—but how much cheese and bread can one person take…especially when breakfast is a bagel and string cheese? Not much. So there’s classics: rarely a line because by the time I get there all that’s left is a giant bowl of squash. Can’t do stir fry or Grazin’ (do they still call it that?) because then I’d be late for class. What’s a girl to do?
Well, last week I was delighted to see some fine looking pieces of grilled chicken on display. I spooned some tabouli onto my plate and positioned myself in the line toward fries, burgers, and the grilled chicken. I figure that because we are given the opportunity to serve ourselves at this station I’d be able to get out quickly and painlessly. What. The. Heck.
The line really didn’t look that long. At all. But somehow, ye geniuses who scored 2350s on your SATs and are doing all sorts of wonderful things for society can’t find it within yourselves to MOVE ALONG in a quick, efficient manner. Oh, are they out of hotdogs? What a pity; now let the rest of us through. On the day in question, I found myself about 10 people back from all I wanted—one tiny little piece of grilled chicken. It had that orange glow—they’d used marinade that day. I waited, somewhat patiently, as people pondered the selection. “Hmm,” each one seemed to be thinking, “how should I assemble this sandwich? Pattie first? Do I want onions or peppers or mushrooms or all three? Do I need another helping of fries? Perhaps.”
As I inched along, eying the chicken bucket, I noticed that several people had stopped to wait for some missing food item. I don’t know what had yet to be fried, but you kids had the courtesy to position yourselves directly in front of all the food, effectively preventing the entire line from moving. Guys, some of us only have 10 minutes left before we need to get to class. Step aside. It’s really, really easy. But you didn’t that day, and I watched, helplessly bound by the divider ropes, as students far wiser than I straight up cut the line to grab grilled chicken. I swear, everyone who cut was cutting for grilled chicken. I met eyes with these people. They were thinking, “I feel bad for you. You’re trapped in line behind these damned fools, and I’m going to eat your chicken.”
Eventually, I secured a tasty piece of grilled chicken, which went nicely with the tabouli. Of course, I had to scarf it down in record fashion because some people Just Don’t Get It. When you’re in a line and you get to the final destination of that line only to discover that your desired food item is out of stock, I am sincerely sorry for you. It must be a tough blow. But wipe your tears away somewhere else so I can get some lunch. Similarly, if you are lucky enough to find the food you want, throw the ingredients on the plate and get out the way. With your help, the UMLR can become a bit more bearable for all of us. Thanks.
Your pal,
Kristina
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