Students, stop using dining dollars today

It’s getting to be that time again. One day mimics summer; the next day is a small blizzard. The… It’s getting to be that time again. One day mimics summer; the next day is a small blizzard. The winter holiday, some snowflakes and finals are hanging in the air. Yes, it’s a feeling I have come to know quite well. Actually, that’s not true at all. I’m a freshman. I’ve never experienced a time like this before. However, despite my lack of knowledge about much of anything (including the existence of Student Government Board) on the college horizon, I have decided to disclose one piece of advice from my position of knowing nothing. This is directed to other freshmen who also have no college experience. Don’t be fooled ‘mdash; exams are not the things on everybody’s minds. Exams are not what you should be thinking about or preparing for. Don’t even worry about getting a new coat to deal with the Pittsburgh weather. ‘ ‘ ‘ What needs to be your top priority soon ‘mdash; or better yet, right now ‘mdash; is simple: dining dollars. Don’t spend them. Like all good leaders of a movement, I have not followed my own advice. I already have bailed myself out, one might say, and it has given me the freedom to give any piece of advice I deem worthy. About a month ago, I left with my breadsticks at Schenley Cafe, and I was told I had a balance of $293.15. That’s when it hit me. I had fallen into the rhythm of Market Central that seemed so trendy at the time. I almost completely forgot I had this other half of my meal plan. I was so well-adapted to the Market Central way of life that I caught myself swiping for a cookie, a soda, a glass of milk or sometimes just to walk by Tutto Fresco and reminisce about the squash gnocchi. I even purchased my own fork to bring with me just in case. I started frantically using up my dining dollars here and there, buying cartons of milk, fruit to which I was allergic, candy to share with friends, large mochas at every cafe I passed ‘mdash; anything to get rid of these pesky dining dollars so I didn’t feel like my entire semester of eating had been in vain. However, something even more frightening began to happen as I started replacing my 360s with Chick-fil-As and my Basic Kneads with Freshens. I had more than 100 dining hall passes! This was an emergency. I called together my advisory board (look for us in future SGB elections: Our slate is Students Eat) and demanded that a plan be brought forward on this issue before our next meal. This is what we came up with: Go to Quick Zone before the last two weeks of the semester. Use up all remaining $293.15 on tea and Starbursts, and for anything I might need the rest of the semester, frivolously swipe into Market Central ‘mdash; even if it’s just for a napkin or two. What an experience that was at the checkout of Quick Zone. ‘How many teas is that?’ ’35.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘I think I’m using some of these as gifts.’ In fact, I had to be checked out on three separate receipts because so many items had to be rung up. Quick Zone should definitely invest in a quantity button, too, because the lady at the checkout had to push the button 35 times. It was all a bit awkward. The kid behind me had two cartons of chocolate bars. I assume he was there for the same reason. And I bet there’s no button on the register for an entire carton of chocolate. Anyway, I have successfully whittled down my dining dollars to $15.23, and I have more than 50 dining passes that I am working on wasting. I definitely feel a sense of accomplishment knowing that, as a freshman, I have sidestepped the horrible rush on Quick Zone in the final week of the semester. For the rest of my peers in the freshman class, I recommend that you just claim ignorance and let your dining dollars disappear into the fathomless black hole of winter break. But why would I suggest such a waste of money? Maybe if enough people say they didn’t realize it, they will be able to get some sort of refund. I don’t know. I’m probably just being selfish. I probably don’t want the nice ladies at Quick Zone to push the tea button on the register anymore. Plus, if you just ‘didn’t know,’ I’m sure that would go over much better than what I said to my parents. I mean, imagine what my call home was like when I told them, ‘I spent more than $250 of your money today ‘mdash; no, not on that winter coat I’ve been needing ‘mdash; I spent it on candy. Oh yeah, and eight boxes of cereal.’ Need some more excellent advice? How about a box of tea? Seriously, just take one: mad150@pitt.edu.