Reunited And It Feels So Good

Mmmm, the first day of fall classes at The University. Campus is once agan alive with students, as if a summer-long concert just ended and the crowd of 50,000 streams across High Street en masse. Crosswalks have gone back to being merely suggestions, parking spaces are an endangered species, and pajama pants abound. (Oddly, no spotting of any pajama jeans. Yet.)

With the students comes the residence hall move-in.
With the residence hall move-in comes the re-opening of cafeteria lines and campus eateries.
Which means only one thing to this Student Affairs Professional:

Southie is back, baby!

Hey good lookin', can I offer you a light?

Now, friends, if you have spent any length of time with me on campus, you know of my love affair with the Southwest Chicken Sandwich.

And I do mean love affair. It's not that I simply love Southie. I am IN love with Southie. Love at first bite.

I know, I know! It sounds cuh-RAZY! I mean, how can a person know something like that in an instant? Oprah explained to me years ago that love is an emotion that builds over time through shared experiences and a deep appreciation for each other's uniqueness. Isn't what others refer to as instantaneous love simply a socially acceptable mechanism to justify superficial, carnal lust?

Soul mates, pshaw. As if those even exist. And then, one day, my stomach grumbled...

It was a normal afternoon on campus. I had wisely packed a lunch the night before and stored it in the fridge, where it remained as I drove off to work in the morning. Since I found myself sans brown bag, I decided to wander down to the local campus cafe. Standing in line, in an attempt to avoid advisees with course enrollment slips in their hot little hands --Kid, I don't have a computer in my purse, I can't add a class-- I perused the menu.

 (PSA: "Peruse" doesn't mean what you probably think it means.  Look it up. And, in the future, when someone throws it into conversation incorrectly, take note. Feel that satisfying sense of superiority? You're welcome.) ****** The More You Knooooow*******

I settled on the only sandwich that didn't involve mustard, mushrooms, or something uncomfortably unknown called a "Pretzel Roll." I slung my order across the counter, shouting "the southwestern something-or-other!" and made my way down the off-ramp to the waiting corral. As the minutes passed, I looked around at my foreseeable future: cooling my high heels in a crowd of sneakering teenagers. Properly attired and yet overly proper amidst the herd of hoodies and frayed-hemmed jeans that pawed the ground like denim Clydesdales. Me, a deviant in dress slacks.

The University works its marketing team overtime to drill into every student's head that they are Not Just A Number, and yet I had never been happier to have my number called. I waded through the bookbagged masses, plucked the white paper bag from the clerk and headed back to my office. I planned to scarf down the sandwich at my desk as I intermittently answered panicky parental emails. I unwrapped the sandwich with one hand as I clicked my way though my inbox, distractedly taking a first bite.



Me and Southie, chillaxing with our buddy DC.


And then it happened.

It's like ... I wasn't alone anymore. It's really an indescribable moment, you know? Where you meet for the first time, everything goes in slow motion and you just ... click. You realize that any sense of happiness you felt before this was just an empty shadow. THIS is happiness. When we're together, I feel safe. I feel loved. I feel like I'm riding a sparkly unicorn across a star-filled sky. Even better than that. It's like...Southie just GETS me.

And I appreciate everything about Southie. The toasted bread, the peppered chicken, the way Southie's cheese melts into the chipotle sauce, filling every lettuce nook and tomato cranny. And even after all these years, Southie still manages to surprise me! Pops a roasted red pepper flake my way. It's like Southie wants to keep things spicy, not let us lose that spark. It's just like Southie to think of that, you know? So attentive!

I mean, sure, there are downsides. For example, every three months or so Southie has to be out of town for a few weeks and never seems to be able to explain why. Then there are the long summer breaks where Southie leave for weeks on end. Even with the heat, I feel so cold. But hey, you know what they say: if you love something, you let it go. And Southie has always come back to me. I, in return, ask no questions. Relationships require trust. Sometimes, when you love a sandwich, you have to learn to look the other way. (I don't see my friend Ronald asking any questions of the McRib.)

The other downside: Southie is a bit moody. Sometimes saucy, other times dry and zestless. Also, Southie smokes. It bothered me a bit at first, but Southie always tells me it's the way to stay so young and spicy. Trust me, I never thought I'd be with a smoker! But, as Sammi and Ronnie from Jersey Shore have taught me, relationships are all about compromise. Nobody's perfect.  And Southie needs me, just like I need Southie. I mean, we're not co-dependent or anything. I don't care what my coworkers say. Sure, we could live without each other. But why would we do that when our sense of worth is so much easier to get from one another? WHY, I ASK YOU?!

It's been four years and we're still going strong. By far the most successful relationship I've ever had. The most fulfilling, the most satisfying, the most validating. Pretzel rolls may come, barbecue chips may go. But Southie and I will be there. So Southie, here's to us. Until menu change do us part.