“And here we have the Wake Forest cafeteria, affectionately known as ‘the Pit’. And no, it’s not called that because the food is bad…It’s because it’s under Reynolda Hall. Our students love the Pit; they really do.” If I had a dollar for every time I’ve heard a Wake tour guide say this (walking backwards, big purse over shoulder, sunglasses and dress even though it’s cloudy and 59…), I’d have enough money to build a rival cafeteria with fast omelet stations and desserts all in one place.
Okay, you caught me, I’m 100 words in and I’m already complaining about the cafeteria. Actually, I did it to prove a point before I get in to the dynamics and logistics of the Pit. Here’s the point: students LOVE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT THE PIT. It’s probably number 2 of most-complained-about-things at Wake Forest, right between how many tests you have this week and how terrible you look in that picture Dean Shore tagged you in from the football game.
But let’s get real here…the Pit is to other college cafeterias as America is to all other countries (kidding…sort of).
Without further ado, the observations…
- Breakfast: Notice how I said in the last observation that the loser tables only apply to lunch and dinner…breakfast is a whole different ballgame. For breakfast, anything goes. I can go into the pit by myself in the morning, and no one will say a word. Heck, I could fly solo at a high table and no one would notice. Everyone is in their own world for breakfast. They know what they’re in the pit to accomplish before their 9 o’clock class, and they do it. Maybe it’s a bagel with peanut butter, maybe it’s lucky charms, maybe it’s “I Can’t Believe Those are Eggs!” Whatever it is, it’s 8:30, and unless I texted you about meeting me here, don’t talk to me and let me be a zombie for 30 minutes before I walk to Greene.
1a.) 8:52 a.m.
This is the most depressing time one can ever experience in the pit. Sometimes, you can become so infatuated with your Smart Start or your breakfast date that you forget that you have class. Then, everyone starts looking at the clock and stampedes to the dish-washing line like the gazelles in
- Table hierarchy (you and I both know it exists)
a) High tables (Okay, sorry I forgot to wear my Tri-Delt jersey…PLEASE let me still sit with you guys! We’re still sisters…right??)
b) Booths (not including the booth by the emergency exit door between the months of November-March)
c) Seats next to vegetarian station (“Yeah! I’ve been a vegetarian for like…ever!” “No way, you NEVER told me.”)
d)Long tables by TV / Athlete tables (“Okay, don’t look now, but Al-Farouq Aminu just sat 3 seats down from you…He’s gonna play in the NBA next year!!! Stop, put your camera phone away, I told you not to look…)
e) Circle tables next to Southern Kitchen- I don’t have any clever parenthetical statement for these, maybe because I don’t know why they’re there.
f) The one table near the front entrance all by itself (Yeah, I mean…I guess we’ll sit here. At least we get to talk to everyone that walks in / hope they tell us how tan we look after spring break)
- How to avoid an awkward pit date: Alright, so say some guy asks you to go to lunch at the pit. You freeze, and don’t know what to say. After pulling out your planner, seeing you don’t have a good excuse, and suffering a moral dilemma, you reluctantly say yes. But don’t worry, the world is not coming to an end…There are numerous ways to say “I’m just not that into you” over a pit meal.
a) Go to the pasta line. This is guaranteed to take 15 minutes, and if you place a special order, you could make it 20 or 25. Leave blogger boy hanging out in the booth, and come back half an hour later and say “Oh my goodness…the pasta line was so long. Sorry.”
b) Order an omelet. This is just like pasta, but for when it’s a breakfast date…
c) Go to the sandwich line at lunch (10 minutes, 11 if you get it toasted), fix a salad (5 minutes, 7 if it’s the best you’ve ever made), set your food down, and then get back up to fix a drink (2 minutes). At this point, you’ve already wasted 20 minutes. You can do this. In five minutes, just “remember that you accidentally forgot that you have to meet with a professor like 15 minutes before class starts”, and you’re golden. Sigh of relief, back to the dorm room, quick text to your girlfriend: “That was SO AWKWARD”.
(Disclaimer: I’ve never heard of this happening, of course.)
- Employee meetings: These happen around 9-10 am, usually on Friday mornings. Quarterback of the Fresh Food Co. Freshies huddles the team together, giving them the game plan for goodness knows what.
“Mike, showing up 45 minutes late is not acceptable.”
“The ginger ale is always out of order. Monica, get on that.”
“Guys, I know you don’t wanna wash the cups out…but this is getting ridiculous.”
“I know it’s really easy/tempting to swipe the kids’ cards like 9 times…but it’s not really fair to their parents–I mean, them.”
If you’ve never witnessed one of these meetings, they’re almost as entertaining as puppies on the quad.
Honorable mention (or things I may discuss later, when my follower count actually reaches double digits): to-go boxes, the side entrance, Monday night pit (pre- and post- chapter), Saturday morning pit, B.O.B., pit burgers, and “let’s see how many middle schoolers we can invite to the pit” day.
***Congrats to Jordan – the first ever guy to contribute to HC Wake Forest!***