Last week, my friend Julie and I went to lunch at our favorite, no-frills restaurant. The restaurant is quite small, so we were seated at the bar; this was the first harbinger that something fishy was afoot. From our perch at the bar, I was able to see the workers preparing our food, without gloves. I told myself that they must have washed their hands. Julie and I ordered our usuals, and I prayed I was right about the gloves. When we finished our meal and were paying the check, a single cockroach began crawling the wall above the miso soup vats, which we had just been served from. My stomach began to churn, and my fingers began to type. I wrote a scathing Yelp review. I could not eat for two days. As we were driving home, Julie and I confessed that we wished Pooja had been there instead. She would have been unfazed by this incident. Pooja views cleanliness standards as second to taste. This is bolstered by her belief that expiration dates are suggestions. When I told our friends what had happened, Pooja responded, “I would still eat there.” We should all confront life with the same unperturbed outlook as Pooja, letting nothing get in the way of our pleasure.
Dear NYSD, what should I do when I see one of my Tinder matches on campus? I normally get super awkward and run away.
Pooja: Well, reader, given this digital age we live in, it seems like a lot of people face this issue. It’s funny to me how in high school we would use technology to make up for the fact that we didn’t have enough face-to-face time during our eight hours of school, but in college where face-to-face interactions are all you get, technology has its way of separating you from the people right next to you. As a 21-year-old with an 80-year-old mindset, I am a strong believer in not letting technology ruin good old-fashioned human interactions. Act how you would if you saw any tall beautiful stranger, don’t let Tinder snuff out your natural flame.
Dear NYSD, I don’t know what to wear for graduation. Is it bad if I don’t care?
Pooja: It’s funny you should ask, because I too am in a similar situation. The other day I very strongly contemplated wearing sweatpants and a Tufts t-shirt. I looked like crap 80 percent of my days at this institution (pretty much because of how hard it worked me), so I might as well leave Tufts the way I lived it. I say this now as I am in the crux of my Tisch snow-haze and work-ridden sadness, but I have a feeling my mother, her camera and stack of family photo albums will smack some sense into me.