A truly remarkable student: To the guy before me in line for Wilbur Specials

Humor by David Zhang
Oct. 14, 2021, 8:50 p.m.

After twenty minutes of waiting for the Wilbur Specials, you and I were finally ready to be dequeued. Although we hadn’t uttered a single word to each other, I felt we had a lot in common: the tenacity to wait despite the risk of missing afternoon classes, the anxious impatience when seeing somebody was taking too long to grab their share, and of course, the visible fear whenever someone was taking too many.

Finally, your turn. I stood behind you smiling, picturing the imminent happiness of placing some warm, golden, tasty shrimp on my plate.

You began. One spoon, two spoons, three spoons. My smile faded.

Four spoons, five spoons. Now you had a mountain of shrimp on your plate. I found myself shaking due to anxiety. As if to justify yourself to the “Be Mindful To Share” sign, you murmured: “I’m taking extra for my friends.” Looking at your nauseatingly greasy plate, I had no doubt that your many “friends” would appreciate the gesture.

You leaned over, trying to squeeze your shoulder and arm inside the glass cover to fetch the shrimps deep inside the tray. As you deformed, moaned and struggled to clamp food, I was impressed by your spirit to apply knowledge in human anatomy, physics, and mechanical engineering to solve real-life problems.

Finally, you left, leaving half a piece of shrimp on the tray. As I clamped up the broken shrimp, I was impressed by your kindness. You cared for me, ensuring that I could at least have a taste of the shrimp dish. It turned out to be tasty.

As I was leaving the dining hall, I saw you again, alone, pouring your mountain of shrimp into the compost bin. Your deep concern for waste sorting moved me.

How lucky I was to meet you today, a person who is popular among friends, a world-class innovative problem-solver, always thinking of others, and dedicated to protecting the Earth! Just make sure that you don’t limit your talent to grabbing Wilbur shrimp.



Editor’s Note: This article is purely satirical and fictitious. All attributions in this article are not genuine, and this story should be read in the context of pure entertainment only.

Contact David at humor 'at' stanforddaily.com.

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