Tonight was, by far, the oddest experience I have yet to endure in any dining hall that I have ever been in, and that's not an entirely small number of dining halls. Yes, odder than my first time in a dining hall at Harvard when, unbeknownst even to my hot fobbish host, it was Italian Night! and there was a band and delicate Italian pastries everywhere and brightly colored table cloths. Yes, odder than when I was in a dining hall at Rutgers during Cheer Camp and I saw tiny girls from Lousianna who couldn't have been taller than 5'1" and couldn't have weighed more than 110lbs loading up plastic trays with towers of pastas, cakes, and pies (oh my!). And yes, odder still than when just a couple of weekends ago I went to the dining hall, but was turned away because I (brace yourself) failed to RSVP, as it was "Thanksgiving" (the Sunday before, actually). As I left, dejected, I glanced in the window and saw that all of the tables had been covered with starched, white cloths and that there weren't any students hussling and bussling around, but all were seated because there were cater-waiters in tuxedos carrying platters and trays and dishes to and fro. I arrived at the dining hall tonight and was given a plate... a "dessert" sized paper plate with three pieces of chicken, all differently prepared varieties. Huh? The kid in front of me echoed my thoughts: "So... will there be real food later?" The server's response, notably not dressed in the typical dining service togs: "That is the real food." And before we could voice our objections, a nicely stacked black woman with a Trunchbull-bun and a broche reminiscent of The Neverending Story materialized, threw up her hands, shouted excitedly, joyously, "THEY'RE VENDORS!" and melted away into the steam of dumplings being cooked by a local Chinese food restaurant. Before I knew it food and merchandise were being thrown at me. By the time I made my way to a table, in the back room where I could eat in peace, my tray had been loaded with seven different varieties of chicken, four kinds of pasta, dumplings, salads, dressings, bubble tea, chilled latté, Reese's peanut butter pie, a Naked juice, two Naked lip balms, cookies, pie, Hershey's Strawberry Milkshake, granola, a Butterfinger granola bar, Kashi GoLean granola bars, a Stonyfield yogurt smoothie, a pull-cord insulated Stonyfield pouch with one of those rock-climbing clips (to clip it to my bag when I'm rollerblading to work as I'm sure the Stonyfield yogurt drink will give me the energy to do), a Nantucket Nectar juice, a Starbucks Doubleshot (in case the smoothie couldn't charge me up enough, I suppose), a bottle of some random brand of water to go with the Crystal Light "On The Go" tubular mix packet, and a Ghirardelli chocolate square with caramelized almonds. What I couldn't eat just barely fit into my Naked bag.
I went to an Ivy League undergrad.
I go to a top NYC law school.
I date men (well...).
I live in Bed-Stuy.
I don't need more to say,
just more room to say it.
Etc.