Behind these doors lies a land we've only seen in our dreams for the past week

Behind these doors lies a land we’ve only seen in our dreams for the past week

Knock, knock. It’s the students of Barnard. And, Hewitt, we’re sick of your shit. We pay thousands of dollars in meal plans every semester – meal plans we’re required to buy – and then, when we need you most, when we’re wallowing in despair over our unfortunate return to class after a glorious spring break, we venture down into the basement of Barnard Hall and find you closed.  How could you do this to us?  How could you?

Many of us got back to campus yesterday, and had to fend for ourselves in the wilds of Morningside Heights for dinner. Some of us even got here the day before. A few of us – an unfortunate few – never left for break at all. Do you know how expensive food is in New York City, Hewitt? It’s really expensive. Like, we had to start selling the clothes off our backs on Buy/Sell/Trade to afford dinner.

Hewitt, we miss the loving embrace of your mellow piss-colored lighting and trapezoidal food trays. We miss the pizza, the brownies, the limited soda selection. We even miss the frequently-broken cappuccino machine. We want to return to the subterranean lair of mysterious noises and questionable pizza toppings. We’ve been living Hewitt-less for too long.

So, in conclusion, we have only one thing to ask of you, Hewitt: Open the dining hall. Stop having it be closed.

Late night tonight really can’t start fast enough.