Hot Chocolate, Hotter Temper:
After a recent repast at Montgoris Dining Hall, I decided a cup of hot chocolate would hit the spot. After all, hot chocolate is an easy yet satisfying concoction birthed at the crossroads where beverage meets dessert. Most importantly, it is easily transported from one location to another; this mobility would enable me to treat my taste buds and still be punctual for the meeting that awaited me.

I approached the hot water dispenser, poured a single packet of Nestle chocolate powder into an ecologically friendly paper cup, held the cup beneath the hot water spout, flicked the switch, and watched as the separate entities melded into one. After a vigorous stirring, the beverage had reached equilibrium. I quivered with anticipation; the time to drink was nigh.

Unfortunately, all of my dreams were shattered as soon as I had reached the exit. I had never encountered a problem such as what awaited me. This is the conversation verbatim, as I recall:
“Excuse me,” came the voice of the swiper of StormCards/guardian of the Montgoris exit. “You can’t leave here with that.”
“But why?” I cried out. “I’m on my way to a meeting, and if I wait for this beverage to cool, I shall be late.”

She shrugged.

“I entreat you to permit my exit, ma’am!” I pleaded. “I promise to dispose of my cup and stirrer in the nearest receptacle upon completion of my beverage. Scout’s honor. The cup is ecologically friendly, gosh darn it!”

She didn’t appreciate my oaths, but she seemed to understand.
“I don’t make the rules,” she explained.

That’s when I realized that the man had something to do with this travesty. He has his fingers in everything these days.
Defeated, I threw my much anticipated liquid treat into a garbage can (which was within the confines of Montgoris, of course), and took my pacifist, type B personality outside for a good cry. I went to my meeting with a stomach void of any chocolaty goodness.

On behalf of every sane-minded individual on campus, I’d like to air my grievances. Why must the relationship between a boy and his beverage be kept within the confines of Montgoris? It’s not like I was stealing 17 pounds of Colombian roast from the dining hall; I wanted a drink to go. Does the same policy follow for ice cream cones (which are great desserts to eat while strolling outside) or the Montgoris produce (which has a limited shelf life, mind you. If we don’t eat it all, where do those rotten bananas go?)?

The practice of bringing a cup hot of chocolate outside should not be viewed as a crime; it is a continuation of the meal and a convenience for the student. I have tried to come up with some explanations for this bizarre policy, but my feeble mind has yielded nothing except frustration. Does St. John’s fear that I will sneak silverware in the murky liquid within my cup? I do not condone thievery, but if anyone is that poor it would only be Vincentian to allow them some silverware. Perhaps St. John’s could start some fundraisers for all those caught stealing from the institution. The names of those students who were forced to resort to stealing could be printed on large banners for all to see. This way, generous members of the student body would know where they were needed.

All I ever wanted was a hot chocolate; instead I acquired a personal grudge against the man.

Mike Wirsch
College of Professional Studies