By Rachel Young,
Staff Writer

Welcome to the first Lunchtime Confessions where I, the hungry observer, turn mealtime conversations with Seton Hill folk into magic; or something somewhat cohesive and hopefully amusing.

During my freshman year at the school, meals used to be more of a social gathering. We sat at lunch from 11-2, and dinner was from 4:30 until we got kicked out and sent to the Cove, which in those days was named “Liz’s”.
We talked about the topics normal college kids do: relationships, classes, Russian politics and the like. Dinner started with one plate, then seconds, dessert, coffee, more dessert, just one more cookie, and so forth. I remember those days that I miss and am sadly trying to recreate those days with this column.

We, as students and faculty, are busy with back-to-back scheduling and can’t always sit around to chat. Meetings and work-study hours start at familiar mealtimes. Plus the noon and 5 o’clock classes don’t help eating at a leisurely pace. Most days I throw random things from the salad bar together, fork it down my throat, and run for the next obligation, i.e. hoop, God has me jump.

Lately, I’ve been talking to my friend and boss, Emily, at the picnic table outside the dining hall at lunch. One morning, after baking 68 dozen cookies for the Honors Convocation, we were ready to clock out and literally enjoy the fruits of our labor. She rolled her eyes at that line.

Emily started working in the bakery last year, and knew a little about our university beforehand. Along with making the sweets you marvel over everyday, she also caters for the weddings, parties, and events on campus.
I asked what her first impression was of Seton Hill. She said that the Catholic overtone was very apparent. The chapel and the stained glass windows make a big impression on most.

Even in the back corner of the kitchen, we’re still able to sense what’s going on around campus. We often hear music, since the bakery is beneath the practice rooms. Faculty and campus police visit us to say ‘hi’ and steal cookies. We see the student athletes practice outside, and listen to the music majors sing. The rumble of construction comes through in the afternoon, as well as the workers on their breaks.

Most of all, being able to absorb some of the students’ creativity makes us happy.

There’s always room for gossip, a necessary evil when attending a small school. Word spreads. Talk behind someone’s back, and chances are he or she is directly behind yours.

How many times have you unknowingly let the sailor mouth loose on Sister of Charity ears? Reassuringly, they’ve heard it all before.

In our case, Emily talks about who’s having a birthday or getting married, and I talk about pretty much everything under the sun, so please take pity on the poor girl.

Together, we get a clearer picture of what’s going on around the Hill. So don’t knock your on-campus job; you can learn a lot of activity behind the scenes.
As an added bonus, I’ve developed weird habits, such as smuggling refugee frozen cookies to class. The little lumps sit next to me on a napkin, and professors probably think I power up on play dough, but it’s worth it.

So, I love my job. Good company and good food satisfies the soul.
[PS: I promise not to end on such cheesy notes.]

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