There is a special table in Moon Library that seems to only serve one purpose: it is the snack table. A round wooden table situated in the main entryway directly in front of the circulation desk. Anytime there are leftover munchies from a conference, seminar or other gathering, the tasty morsels are placed on this table. Students quickly emerge from behind heavy books and piles of dull homework to flock to the table newly topped with treats.
Luckily for me, my friends always sit at an advantageous rectangular wooden table in plain view of the snack table. Anytime there are treats to bed had, we are among the first to know. My blonde friend, whom I will refer to as Marilyn Monroe, alerted us of the current snack situation in case any of us remained oblivious. Whilst waiting for the snacks to emerge from the conference room we chatted, and it was during this chatting when I was told one of my roommate's had celebrated a birthday that previous saturday. That's right, I missed my roommate's birthday, but NO ONE reminded me. I've known the guy for less than a year so it's not like I ever knew when his birthday was to start out. I did still manage to live through that entire weekend without a single hint that one of the guys living across the hall from had just turned a year older. Honestly I blame my other roommates as much as myself for not bringing it up. The shock of this realization was suddenly lost when Marilyn Monroe nodded in the direction of the snack table. That gesture could only mean one thing...
On this particular day, there was some sort of presentation taking place, and we had all seen the boxes of cookies on our way into the library. Those glistening boxes of plastic, lids spread wide open waiting for eager hands to pluck out the chewy bites of cookie delight. We were on full alert and ready to pounce. As soon as the boxes were carried from the conference room to the table, Marilyn Monroe gave us the signal, and we were speed walking before the cookie carrier could back peddle out of the way. Hands eagerly grabbed for molasses, oatmeal raisin and chocolate chip. There were even a few mini brownies in the mix but they were the first to be snatched up.
Returning to our table, we relished in our small cookie victory, and I crammed my winnings into my sandwich container for later. After walking home, I approached the roommate whose birthday I'd missed, apologizing profusely for not recognizing the date. No feelings were hurt, partly because he didn't care that much about his birthday to begin with. Feeling reconciled, I went back to my room, and pulled open my desk drawer where the container of cookies patiently waited. I stared longingly at the box contemplating giving away its contents to the boy whose birthday I missed. I gingerly pulled the container out of the drawer and on onto my desk. Lifting the lid, I plucked a molasses cookie from the container. And then another. And by the time I had decided not to give my roommate a belated birthday treat, there was nothing left to give away.
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