Adventures in Queueing

7:00 Monika and I arise. Birds are singing. The sun is shining. A pigeon is mauling the boys’ butter on the porch. It is going to be a good day.

8:00 We’re ready to go packed and ready to go. This can’t take more than four hours, I’m not worried about making it to Jewish Studies on time. I’ll walk from the new, closer dorm!

8:15 We have to take down the curtains and turn them in? Okay, Poles are weird. We’re next in line to be inspected.

9:00 The strange long haired Polish guy who inspected our room made us sweep it on our hands and knees while he watched. For fifteen minutes. And we’d already swept it twice. But whatever, now we’re waiting in line to get our deposits back, there’s only 10 people this shouldn’t take too long.

10:00 I want a beer. Russians appear to be taking over the line. There is an Asian boy speaking Russian. Genghis better not even think about cutting.

11:00 I resist the urge to whip out my kitchen knife when a Polish boy cuts in front of us. And almost vomit when I realize I’m not 100% positive I removed my passport from its secret place in my bed. Thank god I found it. We’re next to get our deposits back and check-in shouldn’t be that bad. I’ll just drop off my bags and go. Monika and I contemplate alcohol prior to class.

11:15 The cabbie was very nice, didn’t rip us off, and the weather is lovely. I’m thrilled to be walking into a new dorm!

11:30 I stand with the luggage while Monika attempts to get a key. The receptionist glares and will not tell us how to check-in. I now understand why Poles drink so much. Communist bureaucracy.

12:00 The luggage and I commune. The coffee vending machine taunts me. I am late for Jewish Studies.

12:30 I meet a nice giant, red-headed Hungarian boy who doesn’t speak Polish either, but is fluent in English. New Yorker English. His enthusiastic profanity amuses me. People try not to step on me as I take up residence in the lobby.

1:00 Hungarian Giant and I chill on the stairs. No Jewish Studies. The coffee machine’s pull can no longer be resisted. Hungarian Boy jokes that maybe we’ll be spending the night in the lobby. It is dangerous to taunt the only partially caffeinated Liz.

1:30 Hungarian Boy is gone. I stare out the window. I believe I am entering a meditative state.

1:45 Monika and I discover the secret to check-in. One must first enter the bar on the ground floor, approach the couple sitting at the table with beers, tell them your name, have them write it on a sticky note, stamp the sticky note, and take this sticky note with you when you want to pay. Of course, why didn’t we think of this, it’s obvious, it’s such a clear procedure that it makes absolute sense why are no signs indicating it or administration willing to mention it.

Commies.

2:00 I grow less optimistic that we will make our 4:00 pm class. I grow less optimistic that I will not soon start tripping the people stepping over me.

2:45 Monika has her key! She tells me that the administration said that today is the special inter-dorm moving day. We were supposed to cut to the front of the line. Damn them all and their lack of signage. Should we bring a psychic next time?

3:00 Our room is lovely, I have my key, our room mate is adorable, and I have killed no one. Tonight I am eating so many pierogies.