I have the pleasure of dining in
UT's Jester Dormitory with some frequency (you know, the one with it's own zip code?). I choose to do so for a few reasons:
1. It's only a 30 second walk from my office... versus the 5 minute walk to various, and undeniably tastier, eating establishments on the drag.
2. A 30 second walk is attractive when I'm up against 104 degree heat, business dress and a chaotic schedule.
3. Other faculty and staff rarely spend their lunch hour there... which makes it a perfect mid-day hide-away for me and a book (even if only for a few minutes).
4. It can be a great place to people watch. Some days it even feels a little bit like a sociology lab.
With school back in session again, campus is back to its frenetic pace. It goes from ghost town to ant hill with the turn of just one day each fall. Jester Dormitory, and its surrounding area, provides an especially interesting snapshot of campus activity and student life. Because Jester houses mostly freshmen, everyone in the area seems especially eager for life and well... just plain young. Here's what I observed today as I made the quick walk from my office in the button-up-your-dress-suit-business-school to the newly-found-freedom-think-fame-slash-breakfast-club-movie-home-to-3,300 students-college-dormitory:
- Student organization booths galore: a student-run socialist newspaper, appropriately cheerful sororities, the sailing club, international organizations, political associations, a christian student group, etc.
- The christian student group seemed to have the best crowd-pleasing plan. Ten large bottles of flavored syrup and a snow cone machine sat atop their table, right under a red white and blue banner reading "Jesus for the People" in bubble letters. Nothing on the table about Jesus or people though. Interesting concept.
- The doors to the main entrance, which I have come accustomed to opening on my own in the ghost-town-
ness of a UT summer, were held open by two young guys saying "party tonight" to each person who entered and exited (even me, surprisingly) as they handed out post-card sized fliers. They almost sounded like robots, repeating the words over and over so quickly. My immediate thoughts were... in this order: 1) Isn't it Wednesday... a school night? 2) That postcard looks oddly official. What happened to hand-written, photocopied fliers? 3) And this time spoken: "No thanks"... as if it wasn't already clear.
- I grabbed my lunch, the usual - a whole wheat wrap with peppered turkey, provolone and avocado, lettuce and green peppers ("roll it up tight so I can actually maneuver it please"). As I weaved my way back outside, three guys caught my eye as one of them pointed to what I came to learn was the other guy's class schedule and he said with panic, "Dude! You
DO have class at Noon!" (It was 12:40pm.) The other guy - the one with the class at Noon - seemed lackadaisical as he sipped a smoothie and said he'd planned to get there by 1pm. I was confused and amused.
- Almost back on b-school turf, I tackled what has become an obstacle course since classes started - the street that runs right in front of the business school. I dodged four bicycles that came out of nowhere and then turned around as if to double check that I had made it. That's when I saw the cutest little exchange between a girl on a greenish old-school bike and a guy on a newer, but just as too-cool-for-school bike. The girl, while continuing down the road on her bike, was dramatically reenacting a close call she had skillfully steered out of moments before in front of the engineering buildings. The guy, now riding in front of her while looking back attentively, said something I didn't hear but I bet it was something celebratory and equally as dramatic as the girl's reenactment.
... and then, only a little more than 5 minutes after I left my office to grab lunch, I was back at my desk. Peace and quiet and much to do. I got to my wrap about an hour and a half later, and it was good. Just like always.