Without a plan

While UR freshmen and their abundance of Club meals may give the impression that students on campus are all rolling in enormous meal plans, it is important to remember, once in a while, those poor upperclassmen anxiously eyeing their Declining balances with every swipe and even stooping to Flex or cash. In an effort to give these unfortunate kids due respect and some new ideas for supplementing their daily diets (and to save on our own dwindling meal plans), Campus Times editors issued a challenge: Go Monday through Friday without using a meal plan ­— whoever spends less money wins. The rules? As long as three square meals a day were obtained, there were no rules — the dirtier, the sneakier, the better.

THE WINNER: Dana Hilfinger

As I walked up the stairs in Lattimore last Wednesday, I realized I didn’t even know what a cyborg was. You see, at that moment, I was headed to a research seminar titled, “Chinese Cyborgs in Film and Video Games.” Was it purely for an educational experience? Not entirely… a listing for the research seminar on UR’s events calendar indicated there would be a free lunch.

The week, as a whole, was not easy. At times, obtaining food came down to being in the right place at the right time — I went to Danforth on Monday afternoon after receiving a free pass from a friend and stuffed my face, before taking a couple peanut butter sandwiches to go. Other days, I was less lucky, having to wait in Starbucks for two hours until they passed out free samples for my breakfast.

The UR events calendar essentially became my homepage. On Monday night, there was a stem cell research talk that was a part of a weeklong awareness campaign.

Sandwiches were provided. On Tuesday, the Dining Committee meeting had a spread that included some of the best food I’d eaten on campus in a long time. The price for that dinner: an hour of my time to give feedback to Dining Services. On Friday, everyone’s favorite free food mecca, Club Rochester, was in the Mel for the last time this semester.

Don’t get me wrong — my diet for those five days wasn’t exactly gourmet food. On Wednesday afternoon, I went into the Pit to fill up my water bottle and got caught at the yogurt refrigerator. There I stood for a good five minutes, deciding if it was worth it to Decline just one little yogurt. After my resolve finally prevailed and I walked away, I realized that I had just had my very first yogurt craving. It was as if, after going to lectures and events with mainly cookies and treats, my body was telling me to feed it REAL food. Funny how smart that body thing is…

Most of the time, however, the problem wasn’t what but when. No longer could I just grab a bag of pretzels to appease my stomach between meals. If I was hungry, I had to wait for an event. If I wanted free breakfast, I had to wake up early.

People complain about meal plans being a waste, so why would I devote a week to not using mine?

Well, recently, I’ve thought about the obscene amount of power that two small words — free food — have over the student body.

Food is truly the bait that lures students to events. Something as simple as a tray of sweets has such a strong effect on kids who have, in most cases, over $1,000 in food expenses covered each semester. It seems strange, but then again, perhaps a cookie just tastes sweeter when it’s free.

And while it’s not surprising that event organizers use this to their advantage, the extent to which food is used is almost unnerving — looking back, I’m not sure whether I’m proud or repulsed that I could go a whole week without spending a dollar.

But it wasn’t just my accomplishment that left a bittersweet taste in my mouth; it was also, at times, the methods. On Tuesday around noon, I had not eaten lunch yet and was scouring the flyers on the spiral staircase in Wilson Commons when a sign across Dandelion Square caught my eye. “Blood Drive,” it read in big, block letters.

It didn’t take long for me to put two and two together — give blood, get food. As I sat in the waiting area 15 minutes later, I felt guilty for the first (but not the last) time that week.

Could I justify my motives with the result of my actions? After all, when it came down to it, I was giving blood, becoming better-educated and providing feedback to University services.

Maybe it doesn’t really matter why we go — as long as we are there.

Hilfinger is a member of the class of 2010.
 

THE NOT-WINNER: Meg Healy

I started my week-long food challenge with a level of bravado so high that I should have realized my downfall was inevitable. Sunday night, on the eve of our challenge, I scoured the UR Events Calendar, Weekly Buzz, Campus Club Connection and even such online oddities as the Diversity Calendar (whatever that means) and found a plethora of delicious food and free events.

I had my whole week planned out; I would do nothing but attend free campus functions, from the Newman pasta dinner at the Interfaith Chapel, to English Professor Greta Niu’s faculty research seminar, to an Italian film screening at Gleason, to the Gender and Women’s Studies Graduate Research Conference. My lack of Catholicism, English degree, Italian heritage or participation in any womens studies courses were irrelevant, as was my natural tendency to avoid talking to strangers. I would crash like a pro and come out full and satiated.

The first day, I finished pretty strong. I figured there was no way Dana could last all week without using any Declining, so I decided to bite the bullet and use a Club to get into Danforth armed with plastic zip-lock bags for cereal and a Nalgene for milk to pick up breakfast for the day and the rest of the week.

Sneakily, I stocked up on Cheerios and bread, stuffed them in my bag and headed back to my dorm. My pseudo-stealing was pretty thrilling, and later that afternoon, as I raided my roommate’s fridge (recently stocked up with the leftovers of a delicious Passover seder, kugel, brisket, the works), I discovered the thrill of mooching which would gradually get less thrilling and more embarrassing as the week progressed. That evening, without my usual afternoon stop at Starbucks or the Common Market, I was feeling pretty famished, but luckily a lecture on stem cells by Mark Noble provided me with tasty subs.

I took two (inspiring quite a few others in line to follow suit) and happily gorged as I listened.

I was starting strong, and on my way back to my room, I stopped at my place of employment — Hillside Café — to convince my co-workers to slip me some free coffee.
After loading up on caffeine, I started the first of a few all-nighters that week to write papers. That was where my trouble began.

The problem with free food events, I discovered, is that they expect you to keep regular hours. Luncheons are usually around noon, dinners around 6 p.m.

This was bewildering to my body and caused me to nap through about five of the events to which I’d planned on attending.

Still, I was somehow able to make it through the five days only using two Clubs and no Declining.

While my primary methods were mooching off of friends and freshmen and taking shifts at Hillside for employee meal purposes, I also lucked out a lot.

One time, I stumbled onto a barbeque outside of Towers one day. Another day, I scored a free meal from a Campus Times’ production night, made it to the last Club Rochester of the year and also obtained the most delicious brownies I’d ever tasted at ArtAwake on Friday night from a local artisan baker handing out free samples.

After a week of this little experiment, I have become so attuned to the free food scene at UR that I can safely say existing with a dwindling meal plan is possible — but inconvenient.

Heed my advice: bring storage to Danforth, befriend freshmen, get a Jewish roommate and look out for every events calendar and flyer you can find. But most of all, get enough sleep — hustlin’ ain’t easy.

Healy is a member of the class of 2011.