Thanks to their products’ comically high prices and questionable levels of quality, we often associate the lords of DDS with a certain presidential front-runner. No, Donald Trump does not run DDS (but honestly at this point who knows?), although a recent tweet of his leads us to think he’d be a real fan:
It’s a Tuesday night and you’re strolling to Novack, thinking only about which flavor of Odwalla you should buy. As you descend the stairs from first floor Berry you see them: students standing next to tables, carrying clipboards and handing out bumper stickers. They ask you to sign their petition. Buy their bake-sale food. Join their club. The students pull you in with their aggressively cheerful smiles and pointed eye contact. Before you know it, you’ve signed up for three random listservs and bought a baker’s dozen of homemade cupcakes. You wake up the next morning feeling the Bern and wondering what happened to all of your DA$H.
So goes the experience of encountering tablers— students fundraising or promoting a cause by sitting at a table and assertively engaging everyone in conversation. How can you avoid the tablers and get your Novack coffee in (relative) peace? We’ve compiled a few suggestions.
New gym scan-in: It’s the little things in life.
The return of The Box: Now that it’s week 3 and we’re already sick of DDS, The Box is a great alternative!
Pistachio macarons at KAF: The only reason your GroupMe is blowing up on a Tuesday.
Frat pre-rush events: The man flirting is getting kind of sickening.
Prospies: THEY’RE EVERYWHERE.
My two friends and I stood shoulder-to-shoulder, huddled for warmth just inside the door of Four Aces Diner in West Lebanon. Every few minutes when a party left we would slip outside into the subzero weather to let them pass, then shuffle back inside, now one spot closer in line to being seated. The sun’s rays reflected off the expanse of ice that our world had become, a harsh reminder that Winter Carnival was over and there were things to do. But first, I was going to shovel unholy amounts of breakfast food into my mouth. I believe that I have that right and that no one—not God, not even the administration—can take that away. Continue reading
This Sunday will either be a day of romance or a reminder that you’re still single. Or–let’s be real here–it will be a day of post-Big Weekend recovery. Where do you fit in? Take this quiz to find out!
You’ve arrived at Late Night, a little too late. You look around at your options: cucumber seltzer, beans and rice, gluten-free pasta and the last container of sushi (Why is it the only one left? Why does no one else want it?) You begin to feel weirdly sad for these rejected items, and suddenly it hits you–what if you were a b-side late night food option? We can’t all be mac & cheese bites, so where do you stand? Find out here: Continue reading