AWKWARD ANNIE
Special to the Lampoon
It’s around that time of the semester when you realize that in order to feed yourself for the next sevenweeks, you will have to ration your meals to C-store cashews and tap water. If you are like me, you got the all-points plan and didn’t quite understand the power that comes with using points. It’s like a credit card. You don’t need to calculate the price of a meal so you just buy anything and everything you want with this monopoly money that seems endless. You also feel somewhat fancy when you go to Cranston and have to correct the cashier and say, “Oh, it’s points” with a certain aristocratic air.
The other morning I was getting out of class and decided I needed orange juice and a chocolate chip muffin more than anything else. I wandered lazily over to the Fenton café and wasn’t even perturbed by the line awaiting me. Everyone had that look on their faces, like they were sleeping with their eyes open, accompanied by slumped posture due to the heavy clothing of the almost-winter season. No one ever talks to each other when ordering food at the cafés because it is normally such a quick visit that there is no time to start a conversation only to end with “Okay well, I’m late to class so…” I could hear the music coming from some kid’s headphones behind me. It faintly reminded me of Sexy Back, but it was probably some techno song that only plays at house parties when no one is there yet.
By the time I got to the front of the line, I smiled at the woman who was working and said, “Points please” in my Minnie Mouse voice that only happens when I’m ordering food. She tapped my FREDCard on that weird machine thing and handed it back to me. After I thanked her, I started on my journey into the freezing Fredonia air. My stride was then broken by a voice saying, “Excuse me hun, I need to see your card again.” My heart sunk as I turned around slowly, hoping to find out that she wasn’t talking to me. Sure enough it was, and I sped over to the counter, feeling the hot stares of the 20 people in line whose attention I had now captured.
Why didn’t my card work? Had I actually used all of my points? Did someone steal my Fredonia identity? Did I not exist anymore? All of these questions consumed me; I could feel my ears turning red, as they normally do when I’m upset. With a shaky hand I turned over my FREDCard and after some time, it finally took. I laughed a bit to myself and ran out of there as quickly as I could, knowing that I probably just made all of the people in line late for their next class.