College . 02/27/2008 02:04 AM . Stewart Lundy

Monday. If you can’t tell, this is off to a great start. Well, after getting to work at 7:30 AM, I busied myself with the tedious tasks of the technology helpdesk. My first conversation of the day was with an Indian on the subject of arranged marriage. The sort of thing that, if you’ve never discussed such a subject before the sun is up, really throws off your day (I love you, Daniel).

Audio. I had to operate the soundboard for a morning campus event, which was more than obnoxious. One of the microphones refused to cooperate, and I was ever so tempted to toy with the settings. Not toying with the settings didn’t help at all either. I don’t know if you’ve ever sat through a school event that you actually had to listen to? I’m sorry, but $10 an hour really isn’t worth it.

Food. Of course, nourishment is very important for every college student. Sometimes I miss breakfast, but I manage to grab something partway through the day. On this particular day, no such relief was found. Instead, I ended up at a coffee shop rereading Heidegger. No, really. Extracurricular readings of Heidegger on a Monday. I’m such a good boy. This is the point where I gave up and went home to cook. At least I have that, right?

Apartments. We call it “The Commune.” And if you’re picturing a sparse bachelor pad strewn with Gatorade, Easy-Mac, Ramen, Maxim, and the stench of Axe, stop. Immediately. We have no television and no Xbox. Instead, our abode has hundreds of books, vinyl records, candles, eastern religious art, incense, musical instruments, a crucifix, and rugs from Afghanistan. We split all bills and operate with a local socialism. We cook almost every night. Pizza is blasphemy, McDonald’s is heresy, organic is orthodox. When the weather’s nice, we prefer biking to school rather than driving. We use organic ingredients, and have a severe skepticism of technology. Of course, we’re completely dependent on that technology, as the rest of this will show.

Internet. I’m not particularly a fan of modern technology, especially after reading Heidegger. Less fond am I of the Great Stereopticon specifically. I mean, I’d be happy with just a library and a garden. On this particular day, the internet wasn’t working. So I check the router. It’s off. So I check the extension cord. It’s plugged in. I pause, fearing the truth: they’d finally caught up with us.

Power. It’s an amazing thing, really. At the flip of a switch (unless it’s mine), you have practically infinite potential at your fingertips. Unless it’s mine. This is one of those moments when you realize that no one’s been paying the power bill. More precisely, this is one of those moments when you realize that no one’s ever paid the power bill. Not for this month. Not for last month. Not for any of the past seven months. Not ever, if I’ve been unclear.

Leech. Ayn Rand would hate us, but we aren’t just moochers. We make all sorts of things. But from time to time, weird things happen and you never end up paying for what you’re using. You know how you download songs without paying for them? You know how sometimes the F.B.I. shows up and you lose all that music? Yeah. Apparently that works with electricity, too. At this point, I leave the house to go to school where there is (something called) food and (something called) internet. Cafeteria food is something I laugh at normally, but my car is waiting outside, and I’m not in the mood to sit in an unlit house.

Keys. When you lock your apartment door, it’s usually wise to check your pockets beforehand. Yes, I locked my keys inside. I’m not entirely sure what expletives I used, but I’m sure I was creative. Fortunately, I’m a master. I’ve done this many times before. Yes, this also means I’ve locked myself out many times before. It’s a useful skill.

Coffee. Having failed at everything the entire day, I decided that driving back to campus was a bad idea. At this rate, I would probably end up in a car crash and be maimed—not killed. Instead, I tried to cross the street to the coffee shop. This I achieved without any major incident, I am proud to say. I’m halfway wondering when my roommates will find out, but I’m not really caring.

Max. Continuing my Heidegger and sipping tea, my roommate walks in to inform me—yes, I say, I know, Maxwell. Thank you for telling me. Why do you think I’m in a suit at the coffee shop? You get all the points.

Candles. The funny thing is that when the sun went down and we finally resigned ourselves to returning to our apartment, we were able to mooch off the neighbor’s internet. I took out my guitar and played in the candlelight. Yeah, it might have been really sweet and romantic and bohemian if we’d intended to lose the power. We are what I like to call “involuntary environmentalists” in that we don’t have cars and don’t pay bills. And I swear the cartons of cheap Asian food scattered around the house was a last resort.

Extensions. You know those old buildings with really bad wiring? We have a ghost circuit. It turns off at night. The cool thing is that this means that it’s on someone else’s bill… not that we have (or ever have had) a problem with this. Yes, there is a chain of all of our extension cords running across our entire apartment to our refrigerator. This wouldn’t matter at most bachelor pads, but our entire house is full of ingredients, not condiments. Our freezer is full of meat waiting to be cooked. This was an emergency.

Conclusion. Needless to say, suddenly we were calling the power company more times in a few hours than we had for the greater part of a year. And now, $600 later, we’re no worse off than we would have been if we’d been paying all along, and we have a story on top of that. Is this typical of the college experience? I can’t really say. Is it typical of mine? You have no idea.

Stewart Lundy is a philosopher-king.


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