As of late, my ventures into the Grundle have had ended in me feeling on edge. Named after the area in between the ball sack and asshole, the Harris-Millis dining hall is home to a slew of unnecessarily harsh critiques on its establishment. Frankly, I have no time for any of this defamation of character. The Grundle does serve us some klunkers, but what’s a dining hall without a flop or two? And besides, who could overlook the dining hall staff? Truly some of the finest, well-known names across campus. Especially a certain someone who is top tier at the greeting game. Who knew someone could excel in addressing people? Apparently, she did, because whatever she’s saying has people flocking in masses. There must be a reason for the doors out the line. I’m a Grundie apologist through and through, but even I don’t think the food is that good.
Regardless, this quane (whose name I refused to ask permission for due to my hesitance whether to praise or drag her in this article) runs that dining hall like nobody’s business. But I’ve started to notice incidents that I can’t explain her reasoning for saying. There was one time where there was absolutely nothing, I could do to convince her that I had sanitized my hands. You know, I can imagine someone like her has heard every little bullshit excuse in the book. I don’t blame her in the least, but damn shawty!! I know it doesn’t seem like a big deal, but I’ll have you know, the good bacteria on my hand and I have quite the symbiotic relationship and I can’t jeopardize that by sanitizing my hands more than they need to be. Not to mention the fact that when you leave, she tells you that she will see us whichever day she works next. I’m sorry, ma’am, but you don’t know me like that. The sheer spontaneity my daily tasks is far too disorganized to remotely attempt to understand, let’s get that straight. But of course, I constantly find myself encountering her once again. I don’t know what it is about that woman, I just can’t quit her.
There was one instance, however, that I simply cannot find myself to understanding. After forgetting my catcard one day, I ask her if my friend can swipe for me to which she responds without hesitation by exclaiming, “again?” Keep in mind, I have never forgotten my catcard. I am not that kind of girl, so to hear her slap me with this accusation had me more perplexed than anything. I’m not going to blame it on the dementia, I don’t put that label on people I try to fornicate with, but I will say she probably confused me for some other twink who thinks they can pull off a manbun. No matter, I’m still so flabbergasted in the utter confidence that she exclaimed this.
Its not surprise she lacks a bit in sanity. But much like the Grundle, what’s a dining hall staff member without a flop or two? Also, if you get the chance call me, baby. (802) 864-0072 xx.
Categories: around town, nov. 9, vol 25