My fellow Cavaliers, we are at point break. The lunch line’s density of unfiltered students is not only a pain for those who endure its unending ennui, but, at some point, (should the problem amplify), the lunch line may be at risk of collapsing into a black hole, per the scientific analysis of C.C.S.D.S.S (Christ Church Students Doing Science and Stuff). With the sheer number of students present in such a small space, this even with the expertise of Hermes’s distant cousin, the rapid Ms. Katriba, puts forth a near insurmountable danger. Such peril calls for immediate action, and so, as a result of tireless brainstorming, here are 5 solutions to the lunch line catastrophe:
#1. The Sky-Bridge
Not only may we essentially dilute the population of the lunch line, but those in the lunch line can only be enthralled by the experience of floating a story above the ground. The plan itself is fairly rock solid as well. A section of floor would essentially protrude from the side of the cafeteria near where the balcony is (which is essentially useless as is), and sort of loop around in rectangular fashion. If we choose to make things more interesting, we could design the bridge in a more elaborate fashion, shaping it like a star or even a dodecahedron. The bridge, of course, is not really a bridge– it would go out and then come back in without reaching any sort of destination as a bridge is supposed to, which becomes irrelevant when you accept the reality that the true destination is itself.
#2 Employ Another Cashier
Just ignore this one. The editor told me to present five solutions and this one is completely filler. No living being could even begin to compare to the legendary Ms. Katriba.
#3 Ball Pit and Water Slide
Ask yourself. When you went to the mall as a kid, what was the main attraction? The ball pit. Why not implement it here. Students would be thrilled to wait in line instead of dreading the experience, rendering the wait itself essentially trivial. There is one problem though– ball pits are a haven for bacteria populations, but we’ll ignore that in the name of entertainment. But what if those in the lunch aren’t enough entertained or the ball pit’s thrill ages? In this case, we need a water slide. There are few other things that compliment a ball pit better than a water slide, and in fact, I would go as far to say that it complements a ball pit best. Of course, swim suits will be provided (by John Kopchinski) or you can bring your own, but my fear is that the water slide will just create another line. It follows that multiple water slides would be required, thus further decreasing the concentration of the line and alleviating any concerns about the possibility of a black hole. The degree and effectiveness of these solutions, if not guarantees, are representative of the dire state of our school, and we can only hope that the administration, in their infinite wisdom, makes the right choice.
#4 VR Goggles
If we focus on the boredom of those waiting in the lunch line, there are few better solutions than virtual reality goggles. I would hope that those waiting in line would be able to access any visual that they please, from a roller-coaster ride to a ping-pong match. Those absorbed in these visuals, however, may be inclined to see these visuals more, having found more pleasure in escaping reality. Let me be clear, I don’t want the school to foster existential despondency in all of our students, so I will say this is probably my least favorite option. And what if we would just be adding another layer to the simulation in which we currently live?And what if they start using VR goggles in the simulation they have created with the VR goggles in the lunch line? How long would this go on for? How many layers would there be? How many layers are we already in?
#5 The Conveyor Belt Sandwich
Ok, so the VR goggles appear to be one of our lesser options so far, and thus we will reserve it in the event the others fail. We should now, therefore, turn to a more practical possibility. The sandwich really is a culinary marvel. Imagine having to eat the bread, then the meat, then the cheese, then the mayonnaise, and so on. It conserves time and generally offers greater net taste, though the taste is not what we are after unless there is somehow a significant food shortage and we have to resort to, well, more immediate sources of food, if you’re smelling what I’m stepping in. Regardless, if we employ the sandwich method by stacking the students in the lunch line horizontally on top of each other, we can successfully conserve lateral space.I know what you may be thinking, will this not aggravate the issue of the blackhole? We’re going to have to gamble and hope it won’t, but the real problem isn’t the collapse of the space-time continuum in our school, it’s how the student stacks are going to move. This is where the conveyor belt comes in. We can quite efficiently run a conveyor belt from outside the cafeteria into it, and dump the students in the general vicinity of where the main item is being served by our Flik employees. To make matters more certain, another conveyor belt facing the other can be run above the one situated on the floor, though not all the way on the ceiling, so as to ensure that students don’t fall off by pressing them together. Now imagine we pair the student sandwich with the pseudo-sky-bridge. The possibilities are endless.
And there you have it. The fate of our lunch line resides in the hands of the administration. Let us hope they make a sound and reasonable decision (please choose the conveyor belt sandwich).
This piece was sort of written by Tyler Baughcome.