Cafeteria Trash Procedures?

By, Haley Kwoun

You enlist the help of your trusty speed-walk (thank you, Class II PE) on the way back to the cafeteria, attempting to balance the cup on your tray while you dodge the horde of students rushing at you.  You are a salmon swimming against the current with but 2 minutes left before the doors of your 1:05 class close, stranding you outside of your biology classroom forever.  You finally make it to the cafeteria, but the mass of people sharing your unfortunate position prevents you from moving.  You are trapped.  Skillfully balancing your tray against your food baby (maybe a bit too much trifle), you grab your napkin, oyster cracker wrapper(s), and half-eaten sports icecream bar.  Your arm extends to dispose of them into one of the four gaping holes in the waste receptacle on wheels, but you hesitate.  All at once people are yelling at you to keep moving, thrown utensils are splashing blue liquid onto your face, and the minute hand on the clock inches closer to doom o’clock.  Do you have time to read a paragraph posted above the holes?  All you want in life, at least after Trash Week 2k17, is to considerately and sustainably dispose of your waste without missing a beat of percussion class or a note of the Black Death version of “Hollaback Girl.”

“It was better when we had the other sign thingies from before,” says a particularly articulate member of the sophomore class.  As popular saying goes, “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”  I think that we can all agree that those signs ain’t broke, and that their fixes were far from constructive.  One student claimed that the new signs alone revealed her 20/170 vision and prompted her current search for a stylish monocle (the newest fashion trend of 2017 – you heard it here first).  I have thrown napkins, cups, food, and a few utensils into the same abyss simply out of frustration and lack of understanding.  After, as I’m sure is shared by many a student, I feel as though I have single-handedly caused the Earth’s temperature to rise another degree while simultaneously drowning a fish.  The magnifying-glass-requiring signs are a major issue, and I am riddled with guilt as I pass by the station every day.  It is time for this madness to end.  Of course, now that I have written an entire article about it, it seems that this issue has been solved.  There are now comprehensive, scopic signs that clearly indicate which waste should go where.  Good job, Winsor!  It only took two months of the school year!