It was Friday afternoon and Steven was determined to do what he had never done before. He was going to make it to Mahjong Club on time. Steven was a dedicated Mahjong player and absolutely hated that he always arrived to meetings after the start of tournament play. You see, Steven was bad at time management and as much as he loved Mahjong, he needed food. The problem was that the club started at 6:30 and lasted all the way until 8:30. If Steven didn’t eat beforehand all of the delicious and convenient Traditions dining locations would be closed, and his unlimited meal plan would be rendered useless.
It was 5:30 and Steven was headed toward the library. All he had to do was print his Psychology paper and he would be on his way to the clearly superior Traditions at Kennedy for one of the numerous menu options. Steve looked out at the bay of computers. All of them were taken. That’s odd. Who needs a computer that desperately at 5:30 on a Friday? Oh that’s right, Steven did. He eyed the clock nervously as he waited for someone to get up. The closer the clock got to 6:00, the more seriously Steven began to consider stealing someone’s computer. After all, someone had to get up soon. Just as the thought occurred a girl stood up and headed toward the printer. Steven knew it was wrong to just take someone’s spot, but it would be worth it. To feel the beads in his hands as he controlled the board. To watch his opponent crack under the stress of retaliation. To finally win a tournament after being forced to watch from the sidelines for so long. He pulled up his email and hit print. The girl had returned and she was starring daggers into Steven’s soul, but he didn’t care. He had a game to play.
Steven ducked out of Thompson and headed back toward the well prepared and nutritious meal that was awaiting him at Kennedy. He still had twenty minutes until the meeting started. If he could just get a to go box, then he could eat as he walked to the meeting. He was finally going to do it. That’s when he saw something he had never before seen, a line for Kennedy that stretched out the door. He panicked. If only he had a flexible meal plan that would allow dining at any of the fantastic locations, but alas, in this line he was stuck. He overheard something about the new and improved Scott Commons flooding and being shut down. No wonder there were so many people at Kennedy. No one would be willing to wait in line here unless something had happened to Scott.
The line moved slowly but steadily, and soon Steven was at the front. He asked for a to go box, but they had just run out. He asked if they could just grab some more from the back, but they refused. He asked if he could just go and grab a few pieces of fruit, but they reminded him that the takeout policy was one piece of whole fruit per person. Steven had no choice. His dream of eating and making the meeting on time just simply wasn’t going to come true. He ran out of Kennedy and headed toward the Union.
To save time Steven walked through the South Oval. Big mistake. Just as he was getting ready to cross the street he met his worst enemy. Mormons. Now don’t get me wrong, Steven is a very open minded guy that would normally love to have a good conversation with those of differing beliefs. But not today. Not when there was Mahjong on the line. Steven put his shoulder down and bowled over the two well-dressed men. With the Union in sight, he was home free.
Steven tripped down the stairs to the basement and saw with excitement that the players were still in their pre-tournament attire. No one had yet dawned the traditional headband and fingerless gloves that all serious Mahjong players wear. Steven was upset that he had not managed to get food, but he was relieved to finally be able to play in the tournament. He waltzed up to the person manning the tournament roster to sign up. To his horror he saw that the bracket had already been set. Where was his invitation? Dismayed, he realized it must have been one of the many two part tournaments that the club hosted. As he turned around a sight filled Steven with joy. He had forgotten; it was the club’s annual pizza party. Steven grabbed a plate and opened up the box. Empty. Steven had come too late. All that was left were the tiny plastic tables and empty garlic sauce containers. Of course, Steven could have just turned around and gone back to Kennedy, but maybe that’s a realization for another day.
–Hannah Wagner, Staff Member