Sylvia, Dov and I sorted through racks of clothing at Crossroads, an overpriced thrift store that quickly became our guilty pleasure. They insulted the pink, pin-striped dress I had pointed out to them, dying of laughter. I had only met Dov 15 minutes before, and I had known Sylvia for less than a day.
There was something else we shared besides our humor that might be more important: a distaste for dining hall food. Admittedly, it isn’t bad; we’re just picky. We concluded that if we started reviewing restaurants for the broadcast club, we would have to eat elsewhere.
Our first target was 10Q Chicken. The scenery was less than ideal—grey floors, dim lighting and white tiled walls “decorated” with crooked frames. But, with an hour to spare before the 7:00 lecture and the thought of having another slice of greasy pizza from the dining hall, we conceded.
As we filmed each other eating the glorious non-dining hall food, I was choking on my laughter and being told to “eat like a normal person,”—which might sound mean, but to me, it was a comforting sign of closeness. I couldn’t believe that I had only met them a day before.
Since then, we have accompanied Sylvia when she “needs” to be 30 minutes early to every lecture, stood by Dov when he inevitably embarrasses us and humored my incessant pleas to go to the beach at any promise of a free hour.
Even if I’m 1,286 miles away from them (but who’s counting), they’ll never be able to get rid of me.
