In past years, I usually spent my lunchtime alone outside of the library, carefully grooming my Fantasy Wii Sports Baseball League team. Ever since a group of sophomores with triple the arrogance of Conor Mcgregor silently evicted me from my spot, I have since become a regular diner at the Grille.
Like a senior citizen thrust into a dubstep rave, I suddenly found myself in a strange and foreign environment where nothing made any sense. Specifically, I was puzzled by everyone seemingly forgetting about the concept of efficiency and courtesy the moment they stepped foot into the building.
Let’s talk about the line to the register—if you can even call it that. While it’s admittedly fun to be rebellious and reject the norms of society, there are some things that should remain unchanged. Specifically, the properties of a line.
Unlike the current line to the register in the Grille (which features more split ends than a late-night shampoo commercial), traditional lines only have two endpoints.
Don’t worry. Geometry was difficult for me, too.
The line’s marvelous simplicity ensures not only efficiency but also fairness. This way, I don’t have to wait an extra 10 minutes in line because Debby and her flock of friends decided to establish a dominant entry point to the register.
Now, it would seem that I’m only targeting those individuals who purchase food from the Grille, but rest assured—those who bring food from home have their fair share of misdeeds too.
The microwaves at the Grille are special. I have observed that they have the powerful ability to cause people to drastically underestimate their power—much like memes, Trump and Taco Bell. As a result, you guys go mad with power like a Tokugawa shogun.
A slice of pizza will get blasted for four minutes. A bowl of soup will have practically evaporated after a six-minute nuking. I’ve even seen a Pop-Tart get a full-on seven-minute California experience in the microwave.
Those leftovers didn’t deserve that, and I certainly don’t deserve to wait a decade for you to finish making a new element out of your leftover lasagna.
The lesson to be learned here is that time is valuable—especially since lunchtime is our designated respite from the trials of school. We should spend it relaxing, socializing or pondering whether or not Hayden Christensen is really a bad actor in “Revenge of the Sith” or if he was just given a bad script. Time is money, and nobody wants to spend more money than is necessary.
Especially if you’re eating at the Grille.
