I WOULD LIKE TO apologize for my comments about the dorms less than two weeks ago.
In that column, I wrote about the experience of moving in early to the dorms, and I was critical of that part of my first few days.
If any reader meets anyone who likes moving, let me know. I could use a helping hand next May.
I apologize, even if thereâ€™s no reason that dorm management or staff should take offense from that. I really shouldnâ€™t take a chance with people who have that rare power to annoy me.
After all, I heard through the grapevine that many dorm staff and management are pretty angry about what I wrote in that column.
I figure itâ€™s probably the comparing the dorms to â€œseedy roach traps,â€ adding that the comparison was unfair to the roach traps.
To clarify how thatâ€™s possible, I went on to say that, in my opinion, cheekiness and cheeriness on the part of the staff make a dorm room so hard to put up with.
I also said that despite the staffâ€™s cheekiness and cheeriness, roaches are more reliable, knowledgeable and friendly than any staff member Iâ€™ve ever met working behind the Atrium desk.
Iâ€™m sorry. I should have explained why I have such particular distaste for people paid to be my friends, why I never trust them.
Rationally, I always worry that their paycheck might bounce. That prejudice is unfounded, and I apologize.
Of course, thatâ€™s not to say I donâ€™t like people who work at University Courtyard. I have many friends who later decided to work there in some capacity.
Easily more than half of them constantly, privately complain about poor rapport with residents and fellow staff, and most are seriously frustrated by the sometimes unethical but somehow legal working conditions over past years and summers.
Just because Iâ€™ve heard it every year Iâ€™ve lived in the dorms doesnâ€™t mean Iâ€™ll hear it this year.
Anyway, if it prepares them for corporate America, itâ€™s good for them.
In any case, I just chalk it up to how some of my friends working at the dorms are often immature and ill-prepared to work in a professional environment. Even though most of them arenâ€™t.
Most especially, I apologize to Deborah- â€” in a secretarial pool, thereâ€™s always someone named Deborah â€” who canâ€™t read a copy of The Collegian, her favorite paper, without cursing my name.
For some reason, I have a feeling my apology lacks credibility. Maybe this will help.
With God as my witness, I didnâ€™t laugh uproariously for several minutes when I heard â€” in the dining hall, no less â€” that I got someone childishly mad for my few comments that werenâ€™t self-deprecating in a mostly-positive column.
I laughed uproariously for barely a few seconds.
Why would I tease the dorms when theyâ€™re such an easy target?
I didnâ€™t say that there sure are a whole lot of freshmen that move out within or just after a single contracted school year.
I didnâ€™t say how, with a frugal budget, a semester of the dorms for a semester could instead pay for rent, utilities, food, gas, Internet, textbooks and a half of tuition for the same period, with a little left over.
I never complained about the cafeteria food, or how most of it â€” besides the fruit and vegetables â€” looks about as edible as it did four years ago, no matter the actual health content.
I could care less for these complaints.
I like the convenience of on-campus living almost as much as I like actual menu items like deep-fried burritos, all-you-can-eat donuts and greasy chorizo.
Theyâ€™re part of my college experience.
The dorms are great for people who donâ€™t like talking to anyone. The way I look at it, itâ€™s preparing me for the apartment experience.
Until then, I like the dorms. It has nothing to do with the people who work there.
Benjamin Baxter is a post-baccalaureate student working toward his high school credential in social science. This is his fourth straight year of living in the dorms and of making the same sandwich at the RDH.