uchicago is a curious place
where people show up to optional section
and undergrads take notes on their computers during class without going on facebook.
in the basement of cobb
a white ivy-covered building that would not look out of place in minas tirith
there is a cash-only cafe that serves pre-packaged thai food at lunch time
everyone working behind the counter is a baby hipster
and they play loud angsty music
or happy music, very ironically.
throughout the cafe black gloves hang from the ceiling tied up with string.
before 12, the lights are mostly off
but then a guy walks in and flips on the lights and the lunch crowd rushes in
a few girls nod and laugh at each other, curls bobbing about like clouds, frizzy from being under beanies and hoods
a bearded man picks up the fallen pieces of his burger with his hands, silver band glinting as he licks his fingers
and a group of boys with fishing rods stuffed in their backpacks leave, brushing past my table smelling of oranges.
a feeling sets in, one familiar to me from beijing
the sweet sad thrill
of being an secret stranger
a foreigner in disguise.
*edit: ok now it’s week 7 and the undergrads are definitely occasionally scrolling thru their newsfeeds in class. but the general impression of kids working themselves into the ground still stands.
hog maw 