It is 8:20 p.m. on the first Tuesday of second semester classes. Entering D-Level, my mind floats back to my last visit here during finals week. It was nearly impossible to find an open cubicle on any other level past 10 a.m., so a plethora of people dragged themselves to the dreary D-Level.
At each cubicle sat an anxious and sleep-deprived student with bulky textbooks and worn-out notebooks behind them on the shelves. I remember I was even able to hear the mellow lyrics of “Hey, Soul Sister” from the headphones of the student three cubicles down.
With this image in mind, one could imagine my surprise as I hopped off the final stair into the depths of D-level on this carefree night of the second day of classes: this level has reached a new degree of solitude. All I could hear was the hushed rustle of copies being made and the steady sound of the sink running in the bathroom. I was nearly startled when I heard a person typing on their laptop in the far distance.
This time, in contrast, I found it nearly impossible to find a cubicle with a person in it, so I steadily tiptoed to the end of the last aisle.
Eventually, I found a boy in a teal blue shirt with red letters inhabiting a cubicle at the very end of the last aisle. He was staring down at his Biochemistry textbook with such intense concentration that he barely noticed the thunderous clanks that my boots made on the tile floor.
After further speculation, I noticed that he was sitting under a sign prohibiting both cell phones and talking. If one would like to visit a livelier and exciting place this early in the semester, I definitely suggest the FFC.
