It’s 12:30–you just got out of class and you think to yourself, “Wow, I’m HUNGRY. Hmm, I haven’t been to the Union in a while…let’s give it a shot, why not?”
1. You approach the Union. All seems relatively calm. Perhaps you see a friend and wave, or maybe you’re deciding whether to get a quesadilla or a sandwich. No biggie.
2. You go to open the door, only to be met with the agonized SHRIEK of metal in serious need of some WD-40. After recovering from that, you notice the swarming horde of, (are those actually people?) gathered around the menu station. Brace yourself.
3. Depending on your personality, you might a) confidently insert yourself in the teeming mass and write your order, or b) shyly and patiently wait for an opening (spoiler: there will never been one) until you somehow miraculously manage to get your hands on a slip and mini pencil.
4. Whew. You’re finally in the actual café, and you let out a little chuckle as you hear the cashier (you know the one) that asks you if you’re really, really sure you don’t want anything else since you have 2 DOLLARS LEFT! You drop your little orange, yellow, or green slip into its corresponding basket and make your way out.
5. Dang. There are literally no tables available. You mildly contemplate taking up residence on top of one of the many pool tables, but you remember you respect yourself too much. Thankfully the third floor exists, and, aha! There’s a little round table waiting just for you. Just remember to keep quiet, because this is, after all, the “study” floor.
6. You’ve found yourself a little enclave, yes, but you still don’t actually have anything to eat. You give the staff a solid 20 minutes or so, check your emails for the fifth time that morning, and head back downstairs. Was that your name that you heard, coming from the café? Good try. It was actually just your imagination, and you have to spend an extra 10 minutes waiting on your wrap. Fun times.
7. Like the little trooper you are, you stuck it out, and you emerge victoriously with your lunch! With 20 minutes to spare before class, you wolf it down as the adrenaline of the ordeal wears off. You make a decision right then to never, ever get lunch at Union again. You’ll probably forget in 3 weeks. Oops.
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