Sunday, April 13, 2008

One Instance of When I Wish Colleges Didn't Have College Students

I have two midterms on Monday, one that I don't really care about; the other that I really need to do well on. I need to be studying this weekend. At the same time, though, I felt it was unfair to you that the top post on here is depressing, so I thought I'd write a quick something to push down all the negative happenings.

Now, here's a pro-tip: if you ever go to Berkeley, or visit Berkeley, or hell, so much as read about Berkeley, never go to Late Night. Okay, I'll be more fair: never go to Late Night on a weekend night. I'm not saying this because about 90% of the food they have is bad for you (though that will be brought up again probably some time later this week).

No, you shouldn't go to Late Night on a weekend night because you will be transported to the inner regions of Hell!

Consider this typical example. As I said, I am studying, but I took a nap and woke up - wet spot next to my mouth on the pillow - a little past 1am. (Actually, I had a very interesting dream, in that it was actually pretty mundane; none of my usual crazy antics. The most unusual part of the dream is that I think there was a chick who liked me in it.) I decide to get something to eat. So, like anyone in my shoes would, I walked over to Crossroads for some Late Night. Keep in mind, this is 1am on a Saturday night in a college town. Up and down the sidewalks, there were people coming from parties, trying to walk straight. Females dressed up like 80s hoochies. Guys sneaking into the halls through emergency exits (which I ran to catch, but they slammed the door in my face; it would have been near-impossible for me to find them).

But truth be told, these failures of the world are relatively scattered on the street. In Late Night, though, they're gathered together like a herd of inebriated cattle.

It's always amazing to see how many people eat at Late Night. You'd think that shortly before 2am, when it closes, there'd be few people, but no! When I left at around 1:55 (more on that in a minute), there were probably 60-some-odd people in the line for the register alone. So there's a boatload of people, and the vast majority are drunk off their asses.

Now, a quick aside. People always tell me, "Oh, you need to learn to drink; it will make you more socially acceptable." Bull. First of all, I am perfectly comfortable with my normal social acceptability. Second, the people I see just rub me the wrong way. When I see a tipsy girl - not even drunk, just tipsy - I am actually revolted. And the guys are even worse, because they get louder and more annoying than before.

So, there I am, waiting for my food. And I'm waiting a long time. Half an hour, in fact. I guess when someone orders a garden burger, they have to go out and cultivate, harvest, and process the vegetables before serving it to me. On the other side, all the people who ordered chicken strips and three double cheeseburgers got their orders in no time flat. So, for half an hour, I was just watching these...people. Some guy shouting "San Diego!" every 20 seconds. Another guy demonstrating his lack of dexterity by dropping every piece of food he tried holding (hmm...). A chick being held up by (I assume) her boyfriend, and trying to make out with him, except only making out with open air. A drunk guy on crutches - use your imagination. The list goes on and on.

I almost pity them. Almost. Then I realize that, for the most part, they brought it upon themselves. As such, I give them no quarter. When they try to cut past people in line, I'm always the one who they can't get past. I know I piss off a lot of drunkards when I do that, but I don't give a damn. They should try cutting me when they have some dignity.

So, after I got my food, I left quickly (well, after I threw out my bun and about 2/3 of my fries [which was actually a liberating experience]). I was happy to leave, and I didn't envy the dining hall workers who had to deal with that mess of people every single week (and, in some cases, every day).

"Every time I come to Late Night, I am reminded why I should never come to Late Night."
~Andrew Schnorr

2 comments:

Christopher said...

" I threw out...about 2/3 of my fries..."

HERITIC! You must burn!

As for your Berkeley associates, good for you. Fortunately for me, the CSULB crowd tends to be less wild, but actually, parties aren't terrible things. However, I don't mind drunkards. I find them entertaining. That's why I like to be sober at parties, watching the others is fun in a bizzare, twisted sense.

-Comrade Chavez

Squall said...

I don't drink, so seeing others tipsy is, well, funny and sad at the same time. It's too late for me to go in depth, but I suppose if I had more time and midnight oil I'd write something more substantive.