HAMILTON, NY—Sunday evening, post-flights and car rides back to campus, first-year student Michaela and her friends gathered at a booth in the Hieber Café to discuss their week-long breaks. Some rowdy parties and rowdier-still football games were mentioned in the beginning, but as the conversation progressed, what started out as a light chat over Nutella croissants turned into a roast of old friends and family, neither of which introvert and bed-dweller Michaela could relate to.
“My camp friend and I met up for falafel in New York on Monday,” Reilly said.
“Ugh! I love falafel,” Nick cooed.
“OMG! Me and five of my besties went a saw Falafel in the city last Thursday and it was great!”
Michaela added, hoping it would not be obvious that not only had she never heard of falafel, but that her five besties were actually her two dogs, her bed, her Keurig, and her DVD copy of The Notebook.
“Yeah it tasted great,” Reilly continued, “but she wouldn’t stop complaining about how cold she was. It was forty degrees. I go to class in flip flops when it’s forty degrees. I couldn’t relate at all.”
“I feel you, but family was way worse. Thanksgiving dinner blew,” said KC, both palms tight to the table. “As soon as my little sister accidentally bumped into Uncle Steve wearing her ‘A Woman’s Place is in the House and the Senate’ t-shirt, I knew the next seven hours would be pure hell.”
Michaela chimed in,“I know, Thanksgiving is the worst right! This year my cousin Bret got his Batman costume caught on the fence while he was looking for eggs in the backyard, and my Uncle Jim got soooo drunk off the Advent Calendar.” Seeing that her friends were becoming suspicious, Michaela decided to make a run for it before, and before Nick could finish reporting that he and his long distance girlfriend had nothing in common because she joined Phi Mu, she balled up the wax paper her croissant came in, brought it to the trash, then retreated to West Hall to hibernate through the winter.
The Monthly Rag 
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