As I hand my CatCard to the less-than-enthusiastic scanning-lady at the Harry-Milly dining hall, I ravenously glance around the room. My hungry perusal has less to do with the five star fare offered than it does with the fact that I have come to the dining hall alone, and I am looking for someone to eat with. I self-consciously place my jacket down at the end of a typical rowdy freshman table…I can almost pick them out just by looking at them…They all live on the same hall in Harris-Millis and are friends just because they live near each other.They may even know each other from freshman orientation last semester and have bonded over several nights of drunken revelry and smoking a bowl. I am instantly jealous…Why, oh why, must I be relegated to the bowels of Living and Learning? I go to the side that offers cardboard-like pizza, butter-drenched grilled cheese, and water-logged pasta…I decide on the grilled cheese and fries, promising myself an extensive workout session at the gym later that day. I smile at a few people I recognize from my psych 1 class, but resist the urge to say, “Hey, Smith,” or “Hey Jones.” Everyone in the class is called by their last names because there are 150 people in the class, and we were given name tags with our last names on them. Being called by my last name makes me feel like I’m in the Army. “Yes sir, drill ser-geant,” or in my case, professor. I dawdle while filling my drink, holding on to the last desperate hope that I’ll run into someone I know. I see some people that I met at a party the week before and wonder if they will recognize me or if they were too out of it. Nothing worse than a blank stare, a few blinks, but no sign of recognition. I decide to spare myself the embarrassment of them not remembering me.I put on an inane smile, swallow my pride, and sit at the end of the rowdy freshman table. Trying not to eavesdrop, I fake intense interest in my fries and ketchup…The fries and ketchup are not very conversational, so I eventually pick up on bits and pieces of the conversation near me.”Allison and I went to this party and we were messing with these drunk guys. This guy kept asking how old we were, so we were like, FOURTEEN!!” The table then launches into concerted laughter…As I sit there, I contemplate pulling out a book and pretending to be intensely studying for a test. A guy with his Alpha Gamma Rho pledge beanie on comes up to me, gives me a smile, and then proceeds to ask, “Um, if you’re not saving this chair, can I have it?” Ugh, the utter embarrassment…I give a defeated grin and humbly…lie. “Um, I think my friend is running late, but if she doesn’t come, you can have it.”As I near the end of my lunch, I finally see someone I know. I try to casually wave down Lauren and she walks over, looking relieved.”I am so glad you are here. I didn’t want to have to eat lunch alone.”The story of my freshman life.
