By Noelle Ashley, Contributor
Here it comes, in the middle of a lecture hall filled with 250 attentive students aggressively pumping out notes–that dreaded, audible stomach monster filling the room with a dignified roar. We have all been there; and if you haven’t, I’m envious to say the least. Those of us who may be experienced with this head-turning, gurgling tune know that sometimes snacking in class is necessary in order to avoid that embarrassment of being stared at with concerned looks that might read: “Dude, you need to see a doctor about that inhumane growl departing your body,” or, “Who let Yeti in the lecture hall?” Although necessary, some of us might take it to ridiculous levels–levels I want you to be aware of.
There seems to be a pre-approved, unwritten list of “in-class” edibles that maybe 70 percent of the students know about. Then, there is that other 30 percent of campus that completely missed the memo. These are the students that are having those poor Jimmy John’s employees frantically running through the Arts and Science Hall building with the most absent look on their face trying to deliver a sub to a starving ghoul in an lecture hall. You think I’m kidding?
Other snacks/entrÃ©es some students think they can get away with are the fast food bags stuffed with smelly, regretful chicken nuggets, burgers, crunchy Caesar salads, and don’t you even forget the sweet and sour sauce. First, you hear, what seems like, 15 minutes of dreaded not-so-nonchalant paper crinkling of unwrapping a slab of what looks like a burger. Second, the stench of a Burger King drive thru instantaneously fills the room while the student treats themselves to this tasty pile of grease. All while attempting to munch quietly like a mouse and make no sudden movements. At this point, heads are turning, mouths are watering, and all attention on the poor professor has swiftly shifted to this Thanksgiving Day feast to their left. Lastly, and this is my favorite part, the clearing of evidence from the scene. This is a very strategic process; almost an art really. Every time the volume in the class escalates is a chance for the now full-bellied Yeti to ball up their wrappers and shove it into their backpack as if nothing ever happened. There are very small windows for this step in the process, I can’t imagine how stressed they must feel. My vote: worth it.
I can’t help but laugh every time these ballsy students whip out their smorgasbords. I almost want to turn around and ask if I could at least smuggle a nibble off their burger or trade my granola for a nugget since we are obviously over being discrete about eating habits during lecture. Let’s be real, who are you trying to fool?
I know I can’t be the only one utterly regaled by these students that downright engulf themselves in three course meals in class. There are three options here: pathetically snacking on a hardly satisfying cardboard granola bar, scarfing down a T-bone steak or letting the roar of our stomach monsters overcome the lecture hall. In the end, there is no happy medium and we all have to get over the menacing munchies however we please in order to avoid the beast within.
Snack on, Yetis of UNO.