For an explanation of my NaBloPoMo theme, click here.
I have to preface this one by saying: I swear that I am not making this up. You will read it and think that there is no way that this actually happened, but it did. I am still haunted by the memory.
I know everyone thinks that the cafeterias in dorms are the most awful places on earth, but I actually loved my school’s cafs. At such a large school, there are a bunch of different cafeterias, and a large number of options in each one. For someone like me, who is a picky eater and will happily eat the same (safe, boring) thing every night, the cafeteria was heaven.
(Also, I didn’t have to cook.)
(Also, the Fro Yo machine was like a little gift from heaven. How much do you think it would cost to have one of those in my house?)
So anyway, the caf was great, yada yada, until this one day when I managed to wreak havoc by doing several stupid things in quick succession:
First, I got my (boring, safe) dinner consisting of spaghetti with marinara sauce and put it on a tray. Then, I went to get a drink. The drink machine was kind of crowded, so I tried to reach around someone to get a cup, and in the process I kind of leaned my tray up against the wall next to the drink machine. I got my cup and stuck it under the soda dispenser. Things were fine until I leaned a little too much, and the tray slipped and slammed into the wall. The plate of spaghetti and sauce seemed to linger in slow motion before sliding down the wall, leaving a streak of spaghetti sauce in its wake and and large chunks of broken plate mixed with spaghetti on the floor.
People scattered and snickered as I frantically reached for napkins to try to control the mess. Some poor, kind cafeteria worker took pity on me and brought over some large rags to try to help me, but as he approached, he slipped in some of the mess and in some kind of bizarre Home Alone-type action sequence, fell against the wall and slid down the same path that the spaghetti sauce had taken. When the poor guy tried to get up, he cut himself (not badly, but enough that it was bleeding) on the broken plate!
It was then that I noticed that my cup? The one that I had stuck under the fountain soda machine? Was leaning up against the little metal thingie that makes the soda come out. And it was overflowing – everywhere.
(Now do you see why I had to preface this story? Do you?)
I moved off campus the following year. I think it was for the best.
It’s not too late to volunteer to write a guest post! Come on – someone step up and help a girl out!