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The Carletonian

The Carletonian

The Carletonian

Give me a sandwich or give me death

<lly considered telling you about the weather in Ohio. I could tell you that it is very icy and cold and not at all conducive to walking to class. Then I remembered an old rule from theater:  Know your audience. Keeping that maxim in mind, I realized that you would not at all be impressed with our sub-zero temperatures. It’s probably colder where you are.

But there are more pertinent issues on my campus! There are issues that are far larger, and I’ve tried time and time again to come up with a solution to the problem.

Who does a girl have to know to get a sandwich around here?

This past year, my college admitted far too many freshmen. This was a huge mess at one point, especially in terms of where to house students and how to feed them. The former debacle was more or less solved, but I still find that there are some kinks with the latter.

A second cafeteria has been opened and more food options are available. When it is warm out, a hot dog cart rolls up and down the main street of campus. That’s kind of hilarious, isn’t it? Someone actually dresses up in a hot dog suit and peddles hot dogs to students en route to class. But I digress.

Yesterday I made my first trip to “Pop’s,” a sandwich kiosk in the basement of our student center. Perfect, I thought. I still need to read 40 pages of literary theory before my class. A sandwich on the go is the perfect lunch option!

I made my way down the stairs for what I thought would be a quick operation:  point at sandwich of choice, throw student I.D. on the counter, run back to my room. As it turned out, a large number of people also had this idea. I decided to stick it out, though. The line appeared to be moving quickly, and I was more than confident that I would return to my reading with time to spare. Within 10 minutes, there was only one person standing between my goal and me. And then the agony began.

Let me clarify something. This sandwich place has pretty limited options. There is a meat sandwich and a vegetarian sandwich to choose from, a small selection of chips and apples and bananas. I assure you that this decision is not life changing. The girl in front of me was not aware of this truth.
“Hi, I, um, well, I’d like…”

She began shaking her head back and forth, as though she was finally confronting her greatest fear and blinking back tears. The women behind the counter functioned as a well-oiled machine.

 “Come on, honey, what will it be!”

The shouting did not make the girl feel any better.She silently looked at every single option, her mouth half open in fear. I didn’t touch them, but I am sure her palms were sweaty. Finally, she haphazardly pointed at her selection. Only one component was missing:
“Honey, you get to pick a side.”

No! Anything but that! Don’t let her look at the selection of chips! It will be too much for her! Sure enough, it was. I watched her sweat and raise a hand to her mouth, unable to comprehend that she had to make this choice. The pressure was mounting, and she finally exclaimed, “PRETZELS!” She slunk away, defeated.

I’ve always been told to think before you act, but that’s a little excessive, don’t you think?

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