Since being alerted to my impending confrontation with the Food Service Director, I have taken certain steps (breathing exercises, kickboxing, light arithmetic) in order to better prepare myself for what I am sure will a civil exchange of opposing beliefs. So far, my research shows an alarming trend: the situation is much worse than previously anticipated.
I was throwing some figures around in my mind the other day–I know, who could have imagined that I would ever regress to using math? It truly is amazing what four day weekends can do to a man–when I stumbled upon a rather chilling (if not blood-boiling) discovery.
For the past three and a half years, I have begrudgingly accepted (something that I appear to do a lot when it comes to the Caf) the fact that, like it or not, the Caf is actually cheaper than its ubiquitous alternatives. As often happens when I deal with math, I was not simply wrong–I was perfectly and fantastically incorrect.
Every semester, I shell out $1,778 in order to be allowed into the Caf ten times per week. Still with me? Good. Now, as far as I can tell, this current semester consists of fifteen weeks–sixteen, if you include Spring Break. Am I still making sense? By combining these numbers in some inexplicable way (I think the term is called division), I am told that I am spending somewhere in the vicinity of $118.50 in the Caf per week.
We are headed toward the first of at least two shocking conclusions. I hope that you are still following me. By Law, I can only eat ten meals in the Caf per week, averaging out to $11.85 per meal. (In more colloquial terms, the number translates to roughly the same amount of soft tacos.)
But allow me to take this thread another step. Last week, I did not go to the Caf at all. I lived a blissful experience as someone responsible for maintaining their own basic processes. Such behavior, however, effectively increases the cost of every meal thereafter. Since there are now fourteen weeks left in the semester, every meal suddenly averages out at $12.70. And that busy week where you only made it to the Caf twice? Take heart in the fact that each meal cost about sixty dollars.
It is this average that throws the issue of pricing completely off-balance. A student on the 10-Meal Plan, as previously stated, pays–on average–$11.85 per meal; a student on the 15-Meal Plan, $8.29 per meal; and a student on the Unlimited Plan (assuming that they eat twenty-one Caf meals in a week), $6.28 per meal. Since this spread of five dollars exists, how much is a meal in the Caf actually worth? Is there a rebate for buying meals in bulk? And are the meal plans actually enforced?
The simplest method to stop worrying about obscure facts such as the economical impact of one missed meal is simply to partake in ten, fifteen, or twenty-one Caf meals per week. Then again, who would want that? I would like to think that cooking and eating should not be chores, but activities to look forward to. Another solution is to quit the Caf altogether and buy groceries–that is, if the College actually gave its students the option of opting out.
I want to believe that the College is trying to protect the students by making sure that there is, at the very least, a last resort in the Caf. But if the meal plans are mandatory, why bother giving upperclassmen full kitchens? In my opinion, being able to attempt independence is one of the cornerstones of the college experience. I am twenty-two years old, and if I can (finally) have a beer, let me cook–or buy–my own food. If I am going to be bogged down with student loans for the rest of my life, let me set my own spending parameters. Let me choose choice.
