Living & Arts

A dire coffee bar dilemma

In print | April 2, 2009

Last week, I was trying to grab lunch on the way to class, and decided to go to Kohlberg because the bag lunches were gross. But there were no good vegetarian sandwiches in Kohlberg, so then I went to the Science Center coffee bar. But I was foiled once again, because they were all out of sushi and fried rice at the Science Center. By this point it was almost time for my class, which was in Beardsley, so I frantically ran back to Kohlberg, still found nothing appetizing, and ended up just getting an Odwalla smoothie for an entirely inadequate lunch. Over the course of my various treks, I probably said hi to 20 people (some of them twice), and purposefully ignored another 20 who I knew.

You may have guessed by now that I’m running out of topics (I haven’t — Pub Nite is still to come!). Why else would I be rambling on about where I walked last week, riveting as it is? This story is not remotely interesting, but it does bring me to my point: coffee bars are a very important part of our campus life. This is probably just because we are all perpetually caffeinated, but I think there is more to it. I think that they function as influential social hubs around which our academic lives are centered. I plan when I leave for class around the coffee bars, the route I take to class, and even the plans that I make to see people. I get my meals there, and I get coffee there at least once a day, I have meetings there … basically, coffee runs my life. And I think I’m not the only one.

There is a definite distinction between Kohlberg and Science Center people. Obviously, class location and major has a lot to do with this, especially since science majors seem to live in the Science Center, but there are also some very noticeable differences in what they offer. The sushi at the Science Center is a big one, and is the only thing powerful enough to lure an English major like me into my most hated building. But Kohlberg serves the above-mentioned Odwalla smoothies, an important staple in any diet, whereas the Science Center’s Naked juices cannot compare. The point is that the clientele is different between the two coffee bars, as well as the food. The Kohlberg crowd has humanities or social science majors, and many are smokers, easily spotted loitering in the garden before class. The Science Center crowd is pretty much made up of nerds and athletes, and all science majors.

The time has come for a single coffee bar to assert itself as the dominant watering hole. Yes, I’m talking about a war of the coffee bars. First, it would start with simple competition, Odwalla against Naked, sushi against breakfast sandwiches, Sumatran blend against hazelnut mocha. Then the stakes would slowly rise, latte prices would dive, flavor options would expand exponentially, and we students would reap the benefits. Unfortunately, violence would be inevitable, and the competition would degenerate into a blood feud; humanities majors would get dirty looks in the Science Center commons, and history majors would guard the Kohlberg underpass with pitchforks. Nerds and smokers would war with machetes, and the Calder sculpture would be destroyed in the skirmish. Most tragic of all, I would be deprived of my sushi.

Intrinsically linked to the coffee bars is the issue of points. I’m on the 14-meal plan for the first time this semester, and the amount of points I have is absolutely blowing my mind. I can buy espresso drinks and bagels with complete abandon. I heard someone complain about already having run out the other day, and I snickered into my chai latte. If the coffee bar wars are ever resolved, I bet it will be through some sort of points-compromise, with points awarded to those who suffered most and taken away from committers of war crimes.

I have clearly babbled on for long enough. But my point is this: do not blindly submit to the hegemony of the coffee bars! They probably control your life more than you realize. When you are running frantically back and forth between Kohlberg and the Science Center like I was last week, take a step back and look at yourself. You’re like a junkie after some heroin — stop it. Make it to class on time, even if that means missing your orange-cranberry muffin. Branch out; eat at Tarble (but don’t use the Styrofoam cups). I’m afraid it’s too late for me, and if my intake of Odwalla were not sustained I would surely go into lethal withdrawal. But save yourselves, fight the addiction! Or else our campus will surely be engulfed in the flames of the great coffee bar wars, fueled by the snack-dependence of over-caffeinated Swatties.

Emily is a sophomore. You can reach her at ecrawfo1@swarthmore.edu.