Dear Inconsiderate Groups of Individuals in Harris,
Guess what’s not a fantastic idea: standing in the middle of our largest and busiest dining hall discussing the events of your day or plans for later this evening!
Aren’t you hungry? Isn’t that why you’ve come here? Aren’t the intoxicating aromas of Taco Tuesday the Sirens to your Odysseus?
Either way, the best way to get nutrients into your egress-blocking body is not through your decision to apathetically stand in my (and others’) way, barely moving as I dish out one after another unnecessary and completely fake utterances of the phrase, “Excuse me.”
In truth, you’re the one blocking the way to all that the salad bar has to offer, which is so rude. I don’t come to your room on Friday and Sunday mornings and block your arm from desperately reaching for your Brita pitcher, so why in God’s name have you decided to choose the drink line to discuss your shameless adventures when all I need is a cup of Gatorade and some ginger ale to soothe my hunger headache that began well before I walked into Harris?
Please realize that anywhere from 6 to 7 PM, Harris should be a buzzing madhouse, with everyone aggressively throwing their IDs on tables or coveted booths and then rushing off to Barefoot Contessa the holy hell out of the non-hot line ingredients.
Harris is not your arena to languidly stand in line deciding whether or not your bagel sandwich really needs those bean sprouts. Also, walking around Harris in a Sex and the City-esque line with a group of friends is completely fine, even somewhat reminiscent of high school, when entering a place with a group indicated how socially well-adjusted you were in the wake of that awkward phase called middle school.
But it’s neither fine nor cute when you expect others to step aside as you can-can all the way to your damn table.
So don’t be surprised when other people (because, you know, there are other people in Harris) bulldoze right through your red-rover chain of friends because they’re blinded by the need to reach the new batch of french fries coming out of the deep fryer.
Fried food does crazy things to people, especially at Harris, so consider yourself lucky to only get a shoulder bump or be pushed aside.
This is just some advice from someone who has been here for three years already, and of course has been (rarely, though) guilty of the same morally reprehensible behavior.
After all, Harris is a place of engagement and community – it’s a dining hall for goodness sake! But the main and most important part of that is the dining aspect, so move your ass out of the way when someone wants frozen yogurt. Talk about what he/she/they texted you last night at your own table–not in my way and not on my time.
Best,
Kiefer
You seriously need to chill out. Although I have also dealt with those groups of people that you mention in this “open letter” (honestly? an open letter? do you think of yourself as a majestic member of royalty or what?), there are definitely more important things to get soo furious about (like our intractable issue with the too little quantity of tables and chairs during peak hours!)
@kiddo
just because you are too ignorant to write an open letter doesn’t mean kiefer has to be royalty. maybe if the sun hadn’t already set on horizons admissions center, then you would understand what an open letter is. and for the record, kiefer is probably the closest thing we have to majestic royalty at this school. the worst thing about harris isn’t the fact that peak hours are busy (peak [as defined on dictionary.com]: the maximum point, degree, or volume of anything: Oil prices reached their peak last year.) isn’t the problem with harris, have you considered the food that they serve perhaps, or were you too busy with the cordon blow?
Kiefer- this is hilarious. Please keep on writing open letters so that all of us with great senses of humor can laugh at your fabulous metaphors for the mundane annoyances that can be obsessed over her at Conn.