Associate News Editor | Monday, November 11, 2013
To the cleverly-nicknamed men of O’Neill Hall’s third floor,
thank you for eating brunch with me in South Dining Hall on Sunday.
I had sat down at the end of a table, all by my lonesome, not realizing the three guys also sitting there had strategically spread themselves out in the middle of the table, hoping to save the whole space for their friends.
I started eating my egg sandwich and more guys filled the empty spots, until the last one sat across from me.
The end of the table in front of us had just opened. I spotted my out.
“If you guys have more people coming, I can move,” I said.
I figured that was what they wanted anyway and was already leaving.
“No, this is everyone. Stay and eat with us,” they said.
I was shocked. Notre Dame boys boldly asked a strange girl to eat with them. What alternate universe was this?
As a senior still living on campus, I’ve eaten alone in the dining hall more times this semester than the three previous years combined. I almost exclusively eat with my friends from my dorm because all of my other friends live off campus. When their schedules don’t match up with mine, I’m stuck with a copy of The Observer for company. Because I work for the paper, I’ve usually already read it.
Freshman year I was too scared to eat alone in the dining hall. I was afraid I would be judged for dining solo. If I couldn’t find friends to eat with me, I would get Subway and hide in my room, wallowing in my shame.
I’ve grown up a lot since then, and I’m now at peace with the occasional lonely meal. But eating with others is always better.
O’Neill boys: Even though our brunch was a little awkward for both of us at first, you made me feel welcome. You saved me from sharing my Sunday morning with the week-old Wall Street Journal I grabbed on my way out of Walsh Hall.
You guys embody the spirit of Notre Dame. Keep it up.
Contact Tori at email@example.com
The views expressed in the Inside Column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.