The cafeteria staff are all members of MadTV.

At approximately 1 p.m., every college student finds themselves asking the same collective question.

Is that an atomic bomb in my stomach, or just lunch?

Both.

So far, the cafeteria food has been nothing to complain about, nothing to be excited about, but now, it is something to blog about.

It started off as a normal day at good ol' Hoke (affectionately known as Choke) hall.

I opened the un-necessarily heavy front door that always closes too fast.

It closed too fast. Hitting me square in the left achilles. Which hurts. Bad.

Tripped up the stairs, twice, on the way to the cafeteria. It's literally like 30 stairs to go up 15 feet. It's borderline ridiculous.

The guy who scans the ID card forgot my name again, and in an effort to compensate for his insensitive act, had a 5 minute conversation with me about the ground beef in the Mexican Cassarole, or heart attack covered in cheese.

Oh, did I say conversation? I meant him talking and me thinking about things I'd rather be doing, like challenging Kimbo Slice to a street fight, or taking a cheese grater to my scrotum.

Cafeteria guy: (takes my student ID card, scans it the wrong way, twice, once with his thumb covering the barcode.)

Me: (Really though? Seriously? Do you want me to do it? You are getting paid for this.)

Cafeteria guy: (Looking off into space, as to not cheat the system by looking at my name on the student ID card)

Cafeteria guy: Paul!?

Me: No.

Cafeteria guy: Ace?

Me: No.

Cafeteria guy: Chris?

Me: Yep.

(Cafeteria guy looks at my student ID card, to see my name is definitely not Chris. He appears devastated. But mostly puzzled.)

Cafeteria guy: (Silence.)

Me: Have a good day! (Lunch should be interesting tomorrow.)

Cafeteria guy: (Still staring at the ceiling, trying to get my name right)

Cafeteria guy: Paul!?

Shrimp stir fry is for lunch today. Except they call it Japanese Shrimp Stir Fry, because they put baby corn in it, and want the international students to feel welcome.

Which by the way, if you were a foriegn exchange student, why the hell would you choose to come to La Grande, Oregon for your 'American cultural experience'?

Legally, La grande isn't even a member of the union.

It was voted out along with Cuba and Prince and was actually replaced by Hawaii in the 80's, because they have beaches, and we have chewing tobacco.

Anyway, I wait in line for what feels like fifteen minutes, and I can't help but notice the pound of butter the lady behind the pan puts on each dish.

It's literally, four times what any human would need to enjoy their Stir Fry. Japanese Stir Fry, mind you.

Just as I am preparing to politely ask for a reduced serving of butter, this woman looks at me, makes eye contact, as I am uttering the words "no butter please" and literally grabs the cow, milks it over the frying pan, and squeezes every ounce of animal fat in it, and starts cooking my liquid artery clogger.

Next, she stiffs me with only 3 pieces of shrimp, and at the brink of my culinary frusturation, she tops it all off and throws in the baby corn.

Alot of baby corn.

I hate baby corn.

Maybe I wanted a 'stir fry.'

Not a japanese stir fry.

Maybe I didn't feel like gaining 6 pounds in my lunchtime. Maybe you, lunchlady, should be more considerate of your paying customers requests.

Despite all of this, i forced a smile, and thanked her graciously, and 5 minutes later i shoved the stir fry under the table to let the local cafeteria creature take care of it.

Back home, we use our dogs, here at EOU, we take a different approach.

Every member of our cafeteria staff is actually a character on MadTV, and you can't tell me I'm wrong, cuz you are wrong.

Look around at your campus next time you get the munchies, and tell me you are not eerily reminded of moderately funny late night t.v.

I think I just realized why I sit alone at lunch.

That mexican cassarole is coming up.

Oh god, my roomate is going to hate me.

I'm going to do sit-ups.

Cafeteria guy: Paul!?