Aiden Chisholm ’23
It seemed like a typical Friday night at Mather. Nothing special was being served, a fair amount of people were eating dinner, and the Kosher station was closed. But when I sat down, I knew something was off. Something in the dining hall was not right. I looked up and was confronted by the source. To my left at a round table were two guys, one of them had his sandwich sitting directly on the table, no napkin or plate in sight.
His half a hoagie roll with lettuce, tomato, American cheese, and some meat (possibly turkey but I’m unsure) was just resting on the table. It didn’t fall off his plate, he wasn’t rushing to pick it up, and he wasn’t away from his meal; this kid just needed to take a drink of water, so he placed his sandwich on the table!
That, unfortunately, is not all. His plate was next to his sandwich. The plate upon which he received the sandwich, which he carried over from the sandwich station, sat three inches away from his dinner. The dinner in question was left to fend against the tabletop.
I can’t even begin to imagine how he’d go about eating a salad.
High Effort Extension Cord
I was on my way to Mather one evening earlier this month when I saw perhaps the most baffling sight I have ever seen on campus. In front of the Life Science Center, on the sidewalk off to the right of the entrance, sat a running generator. Coming from this generator was a yellow extension cord whose other end disappeared into a window twenty feet up.
This was honestly one of the funniest things I have ever seen at Trinity. What possible reason could have necessitated setting up a generator outside, getting a fifty-foot extension cord, throwing the cord out the window, going back down to plug it in, and then finally getting power. Now this makes sense when building the second floor of a house, but not when you’re in a room full of outlets. I know that room had power too, the lights were on.
Picnic Table Developments
One day earlier in the semester I was walking back from the library through the freshman dorms when I noticed three new picnic tables in that concrete courtyard. I didn’t think much of it at the time; sure, it would be nice if Summit could get some new outdoor seating, but I grumbled and moved on.
A few weeks later, one was flipped upside down. This alone is a decently funny sight. Brand new picnic tables flipped over so the part you’re supposed to eat on is covered in glass and who knows what else. Again, decently funny, but I still just smirked and moved on.
This past Tuesday was different; in fact, I was stopped in my tracks. All three picnic tables were flipped over. Three black turtles with blue shells sat helplessly on the concrete, one was in the middle of the courtyard and the other two were off to the side.
In my opinion, this activity is a net positive for the Trinity community. For the weeks those things sat upright, I had never seen a single soul sitting at them.
Looking forward to the next formation.
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