The Levering Food Court, in the basement of the hall of the same name, sandwiched between Hodson and Gilman, is dark.
It doesn’t have floor to ceiling windows like the FFC, nor does it have bright colors. Some of the furniture is a deep purple, some seats orange.
There are three “rooms.” The first is filled with tables, where students sit, gossip and eat.
The second has these tables but also a food court, with salads and burgers being the order of the day.
The third has tables sandwiched between pizzas and subs. During lunchtime, conservatively between noon and 1:30 PM, any day of the week, it’s busy.
Real busy.
The line at the grill is long, but moves fast. There are always many, many people.
Some linger for an hour or more, talking about this, that or the other.
Others take a meal-to-go and eat it on the way to class, or sit at the high-top between the two registers and scarf the meal in five minutes flat.
At 12:15, though, things have calmed down.
Almost all the booths are taken. The two-tops along the walls (in the middle room) are taken.
Two Asian boys sit one of the tables near the exit with computers and school work out and their food sitting in their lap.
One talks about his Korean class and the vocabulary they learned. The other nods and listens.
In an area with cushioned seats, not too far from the two Asian boys, an older couple, definitely not students, sit and talk.
The man has a Chick-Fil-A cup, the woman bought something at Levering.
He sprawls out on the couch, leaving no room for anyone to sit next to him.
He and the woman talk, but they’re too far away for me to hear.
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