It’s lunchtime, and with the swipe of a card I ascend to a higher level. One card swipe and I am treated to a feast worthy of royalty. I am not alone in this triumph. As I walk through the Caf’s golden gates, I see the other lucky ones. We make eye contact. We understand one another. We are kings — but temporarily so.

Whenever I use my student ID, I feel like I’m cheating. I’m using play money. The power goes straight to my head and corrupts me. I walk into Xcetera, and I have 300 make-believe dollars to spend. I’m one bad decision away from buying the entire candy aisle.

There’s this voice in my head that constantly informs of my ridiculous purchasing power. “Six bags of sour cream and onion chips,” it whispers in my ear, “six bags.” I guiltily meet it halfway at three.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m all for gluttony. I buy Freshens every day because I have successfully tricked myself into thinking that stuff’s good for me. I constantly overestimate the amount of mashed potatoes I want and have to force myself to finish it all. I recently discovered the science of combining different kinds of cereals. Occasionally I become self-aware and throw some carrots or grapes onto my plate, for appearances sake. There, I’m eating healthy now. Leave me alone.

Every now and again, a darkness creeps into my heart. Where do we go from here? My Caf mortality is sinking in, slowly but surely. I have bad news, everyone. Things are going to get worse, and then continue to get worse. We’re sitting at the peak of our existence right now, food-wise. I’ve seen the look in upperclassmen’s eyes when the Caf is brought up. Their fingers flex greedily, their eyes dart from side to side. They start listing off the things they have done for you in an attempt to get one more chance, one more opportunity to relive their glory years. It’s sad, and it’s pretty much inevitable.

May 13. That’s my deadline. I will finish my last final, clean out my dorm room, get on a plane and go back home for a few months. A majority of the freshmen class will not be returning to the dorms, myself included. Living off campus will be exciting and all, but I’m not going to lie to myself. I will spend many nights gazing longingly in the general direction of the Caf. I’ll even miss Cate Main from time to time.

It’s too early to call it quits now. The Caf and I still have several quality months ahead of us. And then our relationship will abruptly and permanently come to an end. I’m going to try to not think about that too much. So here’s to the good times and to pathetically latching on to several freshmen next year.

— Conor O’Brien, University College freshman