This week I’m going to share a story from my freshmen year. It involves crime, deceit and dining center equipment so strap in kiddos.

Back in the days of 2015, when Leo was still missing an Oscar and a significant number of celebrities were significantly less dead, we were dreamers.

We imagined what it would be like in our own apartment next year. No more dorm life for us.

We’d have an oven in our kitchen rather than our basement. We’d have beds we could climb in without first climbing on our desks.

Not like that — I mean not that there’s anything wrong with — moving on.

Only one thing remained out of grasp. No, it’s not the stars — not that we were grasping the — goddamn it’s a centerpiece.

I was alluding to a centerpiece. Now the napkin dispensers at the dining center tantalized us.

It was our forbidden fruit, except it was less of a fruit and more of a napkin dispenser. We wanted it, oh man, did we want it.

One evening, after finishing a meal I’m sure was too greasy to eat or not greasy enough to make it edible, I returned my dishes to, you guessed it, the dish return.

My friends were eager to leave, so I put on my backpack to find it wasn’t my backpack. Well, I took off the strange pack, feeling I had enough strange sacks in my life, and found that it was indeed my pack; it just didn’t feel like my pack.

Well, my backpack is allowed to feel like any orientation, gender or ethnicity in however fluid a matter it feels comfortable, but this called for further inspection.

I unzipped to find the third most beautiful thing that can be found in the dining center. The napkin dispenser falls just short of chicken drummies and my white buns.

I looked at my friends to see if this was their doing but noticed a dining center employee about eight feet to my left.

She definitely noticed, and her expression sighed, “I really don’t want to do this today.”

So I did the only reasonable thing: I zipped the napkin dispenser back into my pack and said, “Alright, let’s go!” I then chuckled and put it back. She was not chuckling. If there is an opposite of chuckling, she was doing that. I tell you if looks could kill.

I then chuckled and put it back. She was not chuckling. If there is an opposite of chuckling, she was doing that. I tell you if looks could kill.

So you may be asking yourself, “That … was pretty lackluster. What was the point of this article? Did you really just write an article to compliment your ‘white buns’?”

Don’t be silly, I don’t need an article for that. They speak for themselves.

No, this is a call to action, an opportunity for adventure, a challenge.

Do you want to make the most of your college experience? Making away with something may be a good way to do it.

You could, I don’t know, never pay for fruit or lunchmeat because you get it from the dining center (just an example). Maybe you have greater ambitions.

Those giant plants in West Dining Center would be pretty sweet if you could get away with it. I’m not saying do it or don’t do it, just make sure to have some fun.

Follow your stars, shoot for the heart, etc., etc.