"Skippy, what's for dinner, I'm starving!" I clicked on the campus website and checked out Saturday night's menu.

"Ground beef stroganoff and spaghetti stratta," I replied, groaning at the thought of another pasta-filled meal. We both agreed that we were much too hungry and our stomachs were much too offended with us to eat another “Bon Appetite” meal. Besides, Hicks was a good five minute walk from our room, and the temperature justified eating ice cream to warm up.

“I have money—let’s go out,” Emily suggested. Not one to pass up an opportunity to get off campus, I quickly agreed. Our first challenge was figuring out who could come and when we were going. Eventually Emily & I bundled up and headed out the door. We fought the horizontal wind as we ran from Harker to the Gee. Unfortunately we were met with another obstacle: there was a line at the ATM machine. Apparently, it is the cool place to hang out on Saturday nights. So after the six people in front of me slowly made their withdrawals, I was finally able to grab some cash and we were on our way.

We had to walk all the way to row F (eff!) in Siberia, and by then even my New England blood was starting to congeal. But we found my car, and quickly started it. As the engine purred to life, the radio blared commercials for condoms and a “smoothly refreshing beer (drink responsibly)”. We had broken away from the Bubble. Within a couple blocks we were out of sight of the college and my brakes were finally working normally.

Of course the radio didn’t start playing music until we were a block from Perkins (and even then it was some horrible techno remix of a Linkin Park song), and the car never really heated up. But as we entered the restaurant, we didn’t seem to notice.

“Should I get coffee? Maybe I’ll just get decaff,” I debated with myself aloud.

“You don’t like coffee,” Emily stated.

“Yeah, but I’m cold and I have to work tonight,” I countered.

“They have hot chocolate. Maybe I’ll get coffee.”

“Should you be having coffee?” I asked, but just then the waitress came up.

“Can I get you girls a coke...or some coffee?” she asked, a slight hint of a Southern accent peeking through the question.

“I’ll have a coffee,” I said. Emily echoed the order.

After several minutes of debate on our dinner choices, we finally settled on hot melts and placed our orders. Sipping on our liquid caffeine, we talked about what most girls our age would discuss: boys, friends, family, and school. By the end of the dinner our stomachs were full and our minds were drowsily waking. We struggled to make our brains work long enough to figure out the tip, and then headed back to the Grove for more delightful hours of studying, glad for a few hours of escape.