Commentary: Untitled no. 8

So how's your day? Balancing a Great Hall tray in one hand and replacing my DukeCard in my wallet with the other, I sit down at one of the long tables.

  Zane is already hunched over his own meal. He looks up from his pasta. --Not bad. Yours?

  --Oh, pretty good, pretty good. I slept through a class today.

  --That sucks.

  --Eh. I take a few spoonfuls of vegetable soup and then move my backpack out of the way to make room for Ben, who's been over at the drink machine. Ben likes Dr. Pepper.

  --So, he says.

  --Yeah, nothing too new. How's your day?

  --Alright.

  --No, didn't have time, says Ben. --I have class straight through the afternoon, and I really needed a nap today. He gets up to refill his Dr. Pepper.

  --I miss Faran, I say.

  --What? asks Ben, stopping in his tracks.

  --I said I miss Faran.

  --Oh.

  --What's up with Ben? asks Zane. --He drinks a lot of Dr. Pepper.

  --Yeah, I guess he does, I say. Honestly, I'm not hungry at this point. I had a BLT from Alpine an hour and a half ago, and I'm really just doing this to be social. Also, I like mashed potatoes. --Hey, I hear it's gonna snow again. Think we'll get another snow day?

  --I doubt it, says Zane. Frankly, he's a bit of a killjoy. --And if they do we'll just have to make it up on a Saturday.

  --Shit, I say.

  --Shit what? Ben says. He's back from the drink machine. I get up to let him through. The Great Hall gets crowded around six.

  --No more snow days.

  --Oh.

  --You know, I venture, --I complain a lot, but the Great Hall actually isn't that bad. I like mashed potatoes.

  --Yeah, I guess, says Ben. --I like Dillo.

  --Mm, Dillo, says Zane. --I like their nachos. But you guys notice how they're not putting hardly any sauce on the wings this year?

  --Yeah, I did notice.

  --I like the Loop too, I add. --Also Alpine.

  --The Marketplace sucks, says Ben. He's playing with some French fries, and he looks bored. I venture a change of subject because I am a considerate person.

  --What parties are you going to this weekend?

  --Oh, I hadn't thought about it, says Zane. Ben still looks a bit despondent. --Does PiKa have one?

  --They might. KA also has good parties.

  --Yeah, says Zane. --Also Mirecourt.

  --Didn't you rush Mirecourt? I ask Ben. --Oh, what happened to that girl you met last weekend? Laura? No, Liz. Yeah, Liz.

  --It's pretty sweet, I got her screenname.

  --Nice, what is it?

  --Like I'm telling you.

  --Ha ha.

  --Ha, adds Zane.

  Now comes the point in every meal where the food is reduced to crums or otherwise pushed aside; there is a puddle of soup at the bottom of my cup, but I can't get at it with my spoon. We play with our napkins.

  --Actually I probably can't make it, says Ben. --Paper.

  --That's a bitch, says Zane. --What class?

  --History. Five to seven.

  --What on?

  --Dunno, haven't done the reading.

  --I hear you, I say. --I'm way behind too.

  A bit of post-meal drowsiness sets in as we let the hum of conversation roll over us for a few moments. Ben yawns. Zane rubs his glasses on his sleeve.

  I steal one of Ben's fries. It's cold by now. I start putting an arm into my coat. --Listen guys, as I scoop up some napkins onto my tray, --I hate to run, as I edge out from the table and stand up, --But I got a meeting in like five minutes.

  --Okay.

  --Talk to y'all later.

  --Seeya.

  --Seeya.

  --Later.

  I empty my tray into the trash.

Rob Goodman is a Trinity junior. His column appears every other Wednesday.