Written by Jessica Ardrey
If you are the kind of person who likes to keep track of the newest online trends and blog-to-book transformations, or if you are the kind of person who likes funny things, there’s a good chance you’ve read/heard of the endless string of blogs that all follow the format of “Stuff (fill in the blank with a stereotype) Like.”
Harding students have escaped this for far too long. It’s time we straighten up, plant our Toms-clad feet and face our beloved Indie music.
Bring on the generalizations.
Because this is the first entry into the “Stuff Harding Kids Like” file, I figure we should begin with the one thing that helps students grow, gives us something to fight for and, generally, is the reason we get out of bed everyday. That’s right. Chicken biscuits.
Oh, Chik-fil-a. What ever did I do before you? How did I begin my days without your warm, flaky, buttery bread wrapped around a tender piece of heaven? How could I even call them days? They were but dismal spans of wasted time until…
Freshman year. How young, how naïve I was. I scoffed at the line winding through the Student Center. I had a Pop-Tart in my backpack. I was smart.
I was so wrong.
I quickly came to know why so many people already have their bags and are standing up before Dr. Burks can say “dismissed.” I, too, push hurriedly through the doors and pay the close quarters no mind. I, too, may or may not have thrown an elbow or two when the boyfriend of the girl in front of me slides in line beside her.
The nerve! Who are they that they can come between me and my morning poultry? We’ve all been there. We’ve all secretly wished they’d choke on their chicken biscuits, forever turning them against its glorious perfection and leaving more for me and me alone!
Ahem.
Then again, there’s also a good chance most of us have tried to snake our way into line as well. Picture it: you see a friend in line (or perhaps just a kid who sat behind you in Art Appreciation, depending on how desperate/hungry you may be). You walk up to said friend and start up a pointless, empty conversation. Then, when you’ve kept it going long enough, you act as if you’ve lost track of time and you’re not quite sure how you got to the front of the line. But, as long as you’re there, you might as well grab some nourishment. Bam. Chicken biscuit.
And let’s face it as long as they keep making them, we’ll keep buying them. And loving them. And running an extra mile to make up for that beautiful caloric intake.
Worth it.
Jess Ardrey serves as the opinions editor for the 2010-2011 Bison. She may be contacted atjardrey@harding.edu
