And thus began my weekly ritual in Towers Lobby: I looked at her briefly, and then my eyes… And thus began my weekly ritual in Towers Lobby: I looked at her briefly, and then my eyes darted to the sign on the table. I squinted: I was too far away to make out the words. Cautiously, I ventured forward. Suddenly, I grew excited: I had spotted the box of yellow highlighters! I surveyed my surroundings, and then went in for the kill. My hands outstretched, I nearly swiped one – OK, 20 – highlighters before I heard the words that made my blood run cold: “Would you like to register for the University of Pittsburgh Insurance Program?” Damn it. There was a catch.

Ah, free stuff. There’s nothing like the thrill of getting another Frisbee or swiping an extra cookie at the activities fair. And there is no limit to how low we will stoop to get it.

At the end of August, Pitt holds its giant Arrival Survival/activities fair extravaganza, presumably to reassure the parents that Pitt really does care about their kids, and to obfuscate the reality these special little snowflakes will, in all probability, find themselves hammered in some South Oakland alley within the next 24 hours. It’s a big deal for everyone, but none more so than for the upperclassmen, for those three days at the end of August are, for us, the brief window during which we must grab as much free stuff as we can, enough to sustain us until next year.

We shave our faces and dig out our old Pitt Start T-shirts. We generate and rehearse freshman-esque queries-“I have class in the, uh, Cathedral of Learning