I love the cafeteria here, with its sushi nights and scoop-your-own ice cream. It’s so friendly. So different from the cafeteria of my undergraduate days, with the single line and the dour ladies dishing out london broil. On weekends, you had to tell them how many slices of bacon you wanted. Once we asked them to make soup without MSG. They gave us dishwater for a week, until we recanted.
Tonight, eating our pizza and manicotti, we overheard a student describing her day. The morning class, she says, is so boring, that she has to open her eyes extra wide to keep from falling asleep. And the professor sees her, and thinks she hasn’t read the text because she looks so surprised by everything prof is saying. So then prof decides further explanation is necessary, and rattles on and on, and the class gets even more boring.
Eila looks at me in some surprise herself. She asks: do students maybe sometimes not go to classes?
That’s the best thing about the caf. Hearing the other side.