It’s lunchtime here at Yale University. Do any of the following apply to you?
- My classes are at such inconvenient times and places that I can’t even fathom fitting lunch into my schedule until around 4 p.m.
- I actually treated myself to a lunch outside of the dining hall, and I now find myself with an extra Durfee’s swipe.
- I managed to get into a dining hall without swiping because I’m a sneaky bastard, and I now find myself with an extra Durfee’s swipe.
- I don’t feel like engaging with Yale Dining’s shenanigans today.
- I don’t feel like engaging with people at all. It’s just one of those
- Uh… it actually isn’t lunchtime anymore. I napped straight through dining hall hours.
The daily struggle.
If you answered yes to any of the above, you are in luck. You get a whole $8 to spend at Durfee’s Sweet Shoppe in whatever fashion you like. So how will you spend your Durfee’s swipe? And more importantly, what does your decision say about you?
You’re a busy person. You have simple needs. You make a lot of decisions in your day-to-day life, and you don’t want the stress of one more. You came here to get nutrients, and nutrients you will get. Sandwich + fruit/chips + water = about the closest thing to a balanced meal you could find in Durfee’s.
Look in the mirror, Overachieving Sandwich Eaters.
Pizza, Chicken Tenders, etc. Combo:
Mmm, grease. Again, this option guarantees that you are maximizing your $8 with minimal thought on your side. If I’ve learned anything from movies/the Internet, it is that college is a four-year window when you can consume nothing but beer, pizza, and Insomnia cookies, and your metabolism will supposedly handle it like a pro. So if this is your Durfee’s meal of choice, you like to live while you’re young. Adult life seems to have far fewer opportunities for chicken tenders, but you’re the kind of person who lives in the moment.
You are so ~college~. The idea of spending money hurts you a little inside, and you are okay with eating your meals out of a Styrofoam cup.
Also, did anyone else think it was called Cup of Noodles? No? It’s just Cup Noodles? Okay.
There’s not much subtext here. You just really, really like sushi. It’s similar to “what would you do for a Klondike Bar,” only it’s “what would you do for a rainbow roll.” And the answer is a lot. You would go to strange and questionable extremes to get your wasabi and pickled ginger fix.
*drools* Note: Image not representative of Durfee’s sushi quality
You have an admirable faith in humanity. You look at that Lean Cuisine box and think, “Wow! That spaghetti looks like delicious, authentic Italian!” You pop it in the microwave, take it out, and feel a wave of sadness crash over you as you survey your meager lunch: half of it scaldingly hot, the other half uncooked but slightly damp from the ice that has melted on it. Still, you continue to depend on those frozen dinners, ringing up each day with a childlike optimism that we really should all try to emulate.
Or maybe you do know what you’re getting into each time, and you literally just do not care anymore.
The newest addition to Durfee’s. If this is how you spend your swipe, you appreciate novelty and hydration. (Don’t we all.) I’m still not convinced that “Boxed Water” isn’t some sort of strange prank, à la Dumb Starbucks. Do people actually buy boxed water? Is it because you don’t own a water bottle? You don’t understand how drinking fountains work? You’ve always dreamed of drinking water out of a carton? There’s something magical about this specific type of water?
Water is water is water, no??
Sabra Hummus Cup:
What listeria? You either don’t read the news or don’t believe in recalls.
Recall, shmecall, I’m sure Yale Health could handle it.
Ben & Jerry’s/Nutella/Roll of Cookie Dough:
Oh, no. It’s been a rough day for you. Maybe you’re planning on spacing out your consumption over a reasonable period of time, but I personally am not familiar with that sort of rationality and self-discipline. You go drown your sorrows in sugar, hide from your suitemates out of shame and/or a refusal to share your food, and then tomorrow, you get back on that horse, champ! Please just don’t make this a regular habit. Type 2 Diabetes is very real, and it will come for you.
No parents, no rules! Ice cream for lunch! College forever!
You are easily distracted. You presumably came into Durfee’s seeking food, and you are now leaving with a Yale lanyard and some gum. Please get it together.
Yeah, boola boola, but you do need to eat.
At 50 cents each, apples are one of the cheapest items in Durfee’s. With an $8 swipe you could roll on out of there with a whopping sixteen apples. I’ve never seen anyone accomplish this feat, so if you have done this before: you are a legend in the eyes of the Boola.
Nothing says “baller” like nearly three times your recommended daily allowance of fiber.