College: The Backlog (Cupcakes)

So dang behind.

Anyway.

Don't feel like talking about my move-in, so instead, a story from last night:

I've been going to a lot of banquets lately. I'm an Honors student, plus I have some scholarships, so these things happen. It is no great burden on me. Some days ago, I went to the Honors banquet; last night, I went to the Regents Scholars' banquet. I did not actually know about this banquet ahead of time; half an hour before it began, a friend told me that a friend had told them that there would be a banquet tonight. I went to the indicated place at the indicated time, and noted a large presence of people in semi-formal dress, milling about and eating appetizers. I concluded that this was the banquet in question. (Thanks here go to friend Robert and friend Rachel respectively.)

I should note here that this is not the first time I managed to get to an event which I was meant to attend by near-pure luck; some days before, I went to the Computer Science orientation only because I was trying to go to a different event in the same building at the same time. I'm rather hopeful that there isn't a significant proportion of events that I wasn't lucky enough to catch. It's hard to tell, for obvious reasons.

But I did go to the Regents Scholars' banquet. I did my part, eating appetizers and milling about like the others, reuniting with Robert and Rachel fairly quickly. We talked with other people - a lot of their stories I'd already heard, but I was first informed of another suite's custom stadium seating then, so it was hardly a waste of time, even if I hadn't been enjoying myself. The food was delicious, to boot - there was shrimp, chicken-on-a-stick, and cheese quesadillas, alcohol, cupcakes... I've rather lost the habit of eating regular meals, so this was doubly delicious.

Then we sat in an enormous auditorium (it had a giant glass door that rose up on rollers like a garage door!) and listened to people say fairly uninteresting things. Afterwards, we got water bottles made out of cancer-plastic. I took one. Certain others took more than one. For their "roommates".

The crowd dispersed. I was talking to a few people I knew there (and one I didn't) when we were commandeered by a staff woman. "Come help us!" she instructed. I guessed, at the time, that we would be required to do heavy lifting.

They wanted us to carry the left-overs. Two boxes of beer and a big box of uneaten cupcakes. So, basically I was right.

Two of my friends ended up carrying boxes, while another guy (a staff guy, maybe?) took the last box. I was left with nothing. (Later I was accused of sloth. Pah!) We headed up several flights of stairs, past a very long queue waiting for admission into a nearby nightclub. ("The Loft".) "Move quickly!" we were told. "Don't let them get what you're carrying!"

The danger was exaggerated.

At last, we arrived at our destination (a small office), and the beer was stashed. (With some difficulty - the refrigerator in use was fairly small.) The disposition of the cupcakes was considered. My suitemates and I volunteered to take them home. "It'd be no trouble," we agreed.

This suggestion was tragically rejected.

Instead, we returned to the queue a floor below. My friends and I were left with a pitiful five cupcakes from the box, as thanks for our service, while the staff-woman who initially recruited us ran with increasing speed down the queue, distributing the cupcakes for free. Some people ran after her to get a cupcake; others were left dazed, only realizing what had just passed them moments too late. (I observed a girl talking to a friend: "They were giving out what?" she asked, her voice displaying an incalculable agony at the opportunity missed.*)

This is, essentially, how every banquet, everywhere, should end.

*Hyperbole/outright fiction warning.