If Jerry Seinfeld ever came to Dartmouth, probably the first thing he would say is, "So what's the deal with Collis?"
Truly, it's a building with an identity crisis. Is it a dining hall? Or a student union? Is it an office building? Maybe a caf. And then there's that whole basement, which is just totally bizarre and frustrating.
Some of you must kind of like this weirdness, as you obviously gravitate to Collis during any available free time, day or night. Perhaps you can identify with Collis' confusion or something -- I really don't know.
But I do know that it's freaking me out, and would freak Jerry out, too.
I realize that speaking negatively about Collis is risky business, and I know that many of you consider the creepy multi-purposed building a kind of home.
But I just can't help feeling that something is very, very wrong whenever I walk into Collis. Too many things are going on. Too many atmospheres are being sought after. And then when I walk in, I feel like I'm the last straw, sending Collis into a horrible state of chaos.
The center of this whirlwind of madness is none other than the dining hall part, that little, tiny area packed with lines and food.
I hate it. I can't deal with being in there. Actually, I'd be willing to bet that of all the people that have been on campus for five terms, I have eaten in Collis the least.
I avoid it like the plague. And so when I do get suckered into meeting someone in Collis, I undoubtedly make a fool of myself.
So let this serve as a kind of explanation for my stupidity. The next time you see me forget to take a tray, or stand awkwardly between two lines wondering where I'm headed, or shuffle nervously around the baked goods wondering how you're supposed to serve them, please consider my lack of Collis experience.
And the problem, the totally irrational but horrible fear of this too-popular dining hall, is a never-ending cycle of panic. The more bad experiences I have in there, the less willing I am to go back. But the longer it's been since I've eaten there, the more nervous I become when I do have to go. And the more nervous I am, the more likely I am to do something stupid. And so the nightmare goes on.
Like the time (quite recently) that I used the wrong cup for hot chocolate (which was, of course, the simplest "snack" I could think of getting) -- that was awful. I didn't need my friend to point it out. I didn't need the cashier to explain that the cup might get too "waxy" from the heat. And I didn't need to sit there while the melting cup burned my hand.
I didn't need the hot chocolate, and I didn't need Collis.
I can't go in there when it's empty, because then I'm too conspicuous to the Collis-workers. But I can't go in there when it's crowded, because then the whirlpool is just totally out of control.
I can't get a sandwich because I can't find the right line, and then when I do, the sandwich guy usually makes fun of my "too-dry" selection. But I can't not get a sandwich, because then I'd have to think about what else I would get and where to find it (and I'd probably be expected to get something "cool" like the stir-fry or something).
I can't go there alone because that's clearly terrifying. But I can't go there with friends because then I become unbelievably aware of how I just don't belong in Collis.
I shrivel up in embarrassment, as I watch friends ask for special salad dressings or scoop frozen fruit from the Smoothie area. They're so confident. So aloof. I hate them.
But even worse is how I will undoubtedly trip whenever I'm in Collis. And how that trip will undoubtedly be in front of someone I know but don't particularly want to talk to -- since everyone on campus is in Collis always. You people don't know how scary you are.
So there it is. That's my story of trauma. Those of you who talk about grabbing couches in Collis between your classes or meeting friends there for lunch or hanging out at the Big Green Bean to study obviously can't understand.
Maybe the guy I know who's convinced that Collis cooks with too many peanuts and will thus trigger his allergy can understand. But he's probably it. Our only hope is that the rest of you will offer Collis Survival Classes or something. (Not like I'd sign up -- I mean, it's Collis. Ew.)
