It was just another walk to the cafeteria; we do it every single day, usually twice a day, and we always go together. But today was one of those days where the moods of the two best friends were approaching delirious quicker than the Steelers are approaching a Super Bowl loss. We were both experiencing a combination of the myriad of circumstances and assignments that encompass the life of a college student. If we had been alone, we would have quietly bottled up our insanity until we could sleep it off. But since we were together, we fed off each other's delirium like small children clamoring for an adult's attention. Each comment had to be built upon. The caf chose that night to serve some decorative greenery on top of the rice. The greenery was completely pointless, only there to make the questionable substance under it appear slightly more pleasing to the palette than the leftovers of yesterday's meatloaf. The shrub became the unsuspecting subject of our deranged comments.
"This looks like something out of Bambi's forest," my best friend Sally commented disgustedly.
"How dare they take a shrub from Bambi's home!" I chimed in.
From there it became a volley of snappy remarks, going back and forth faster than Venus and Serena in Wimbledon and escalating as quickly as a tea kettle once it starts whistling.
"Yeah, wasn't it enough they killed his mom?!"
"And on our plate there's only one, imagine how many plates of this they will serve, they've taken his whole forest!"
"So now he's without a mom and a home!"
"We should write a letter."
"I bet it was the hunter."
So yes, the caf is personally responsible for all of Bambi's childhood pain and misery, in case you were wondering.