I, like many people, previously had a love affair. It lasted quite a while, but has recently been on hold for a prolonged period of time. I had an affair with what I thought was the perfect yam fry — delicious, orange in colour, perfectly shaped every time and with just the right texture. Yes, I was in love with the Degrees yam fry.
My love has been taken from me for what seems like forever, and while I feel displaced, almost wronged, my search for equally great food items has lead me quite a few places, and has me asking questions about the couples on campus.
While finding places to eat, I’ve come across two interesting patterns in campus couples. Campus couples can always fall into two categories that I think I’ve classified, but I like to think they fit more into one than the other no matter what the circumstances.
The first type is two people, so removed from one another that you would not at first assume they were a couple. I find myself glancing over at them periodically, because I can’t quite gauge what they are. Finally I give up and assume they’re brother and sister, but then they get up when they’re finished eating and they peck each other on the lips. It’s the kind of relationship where neither of them really enjoy public displays of anything, least of all affection.
The second type are those couples who are so all over each other throughout whatever they’re doing that I worry they might just get naked and have at it right there on the table, surrounded by all the people. Of course, for the sad single person, when they eat off the same fork they might as well be stabbing single people everywhere in the heart.
Of course, from time to time a person will also run into every sad single person’s favorite thing: the couples bickering over lunch. The couples fighting over their roti always reminds me momentarily that within relationships there is unneeded stress being avoided by being single.
As awful as that is, maybe it’s some of the greatest entertainment a single person can ask for while being reminded that they’ve got it good. But even the fighting couples make up, and sometimes watching too long can be more depressing than a bad episode of All My Children.
When they make up, all the happiness the sadistically sad single person had in their sorrow is lost and, it would seem, the world is right again.
And so, while my single person observations have been properly categorized and noted, my search for the perfect yam fry on campus with out Degrees continues.
