Student Eats Burger Patty, Later Hospitalized In Critical Condition
The reason for the unspoken rule: never eat the Harris burger patties.
For many Camels, there is one shared fear. Contrary to recent evidence, downtown New London past midnight is not it. Arguably, just about anything on campus is considerably less dangerous than the Harris Refectory dining hall. As you probably know, engaging with the “offerings” at Harris can be okay, really bad, or really, really bad.
I suppose everyone shares mixed feelings. It’s college, right? The food is hit or miss. That makes sense.
But Harris defies explanation. And one disturbing incident is sending shockwaves throughout the student body.
Reports emerged in mid-October of a “problem” at Harris (though it’s hard to isolate one “problem” at Harris because there are so many). One naïve student, whose lawyers prefer that they be anonymous to the public, reportedly ate an undercooked burger patty that severely compromised their health. Upon further research, it was discovered that the pre-cooked burgers had been sitting for three days in a bubble bath of hot chum, stewing in dangerous bacteria. And yet, the burger was somehow undercooked. (This supports the theory that the burger was not composed of animal meat or anything close to it).
As the liberal arts encourage active listening and two-way dialogue, I knew that an interview was key to discovering and unleashing the heavy truth. Eager to sit down and chat, I prepared several questions. Now, I share our very personal conversation – and the insights that transpired – with you.
Peyton R. Lusk (me): Before we begin, I would like to take a moment to pause and reflect. It is a miracle you are here, right?
PoisonedStudent: More than a miracle. You know, divine intervention? I can’t imagine any other way I could have lived through eating a Harris burger patty. Before passing out, I slipped on a slurry of pineapple fried rice, soy sauce, sriracha, and chopsticks near the wok station. And, I watched as smoke emanated from this dark puddle, almost majestically. Since then, I have been assured many times that the smoke was definitely not the byproduct of a protic chemical reaction from underneath me. It was, it was…Peyton (me): It was… What was it?
PoisonedStudent: Like, God was just about to materialize. But this was no God. This was the living incarnation of the wrath of the underworld.It was the terrifying red statue with the dangling feet outside Blaustein.
Peyton (me): Uh. Okay. Moving on, in my notes, I see that you mentioned experiencing “an unearthly hurricane of heat and humidity” upon entering Harris. Care to elaborate? And, please, don’t hesitate to share whatever else comes to your mind.
PoisonedStudent: I felt kind of funny and uncomfortable walking in. It was so hot, man, like an exotic place in a disorientingly scorching summer. I thought I was being cooked, I swear. The heat radiating from the ceiling in that little entryway or lobby area, I mean, what is that? Swiping in, there were tumbleweeds everywhere. My buddies and I were the only people there since it was already 7:30 p.m., a time so late that nobody would even dare to test the “cooked” meats. I was brave enough to grab a burger, one of the most regrettable decisions in my life. Even worse than flushing my goldfish down the toilet. Even worse than missing my cousin’s funeral. Is it hot in here?Peyton (me): If you need a box of tissues, or would like me to call Student Health Services, please let me know. And continue at your own pace. I am aware that the events that transpired have left quite a mark on you, correct?
PoisonedStudent: I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry, man, not again.Peyton (me): Take. Your. Time.
PoisonedStudent: Rusty. Ice-cold. The meat tongs, the burger “meat” tongs, were never sanitized. Innocently, I selected a burger patty. Out of three, I chose the one in the far back. That’s when I sat down with my buddies. After the first bite of the grayish burger patty, I immediately felt dizzy. Soon, I was sprinting to the bathroom. But it was already too late. My friend asked me, “You good?” And so, I told him, “That burger is literally f****** raw in the middle, and clumpy and dry like dog s*** on the outside.” Then, I fell near the wok station.Peyton (me): When you were recovering in the hospital, you mentioned in a different interview—and this is understandably baffling—that you were water-boarded? I mean, really? Are you sure? You could imagine the disbelief.
PoisonedStudent: The memory is fuzzy. I won’t lie. I will say this, however. I woke up far away, relatively speaking, from the wok station. Main Street East? Yeah, that’s what they call it. It’s ostensibly a classroom. My only vivid memory is waking up inside of the piano upstairs, a makeshift prison cell. Entangled, struggling to break free from the piano strings upstairs, in Main Street East. They moved the piano from the upstairs lobby to the “classroom” or—as it’s referred to by campus administrators—the investigation room. I’m not not saying the Plex is a prison. But, when I woke up inside the piano, I was glued down and water-boarded with military-grade buckets of sweet and sour sauce. Don’t believe me? There are still spring rolls inside the piano. That’s how they made my bed. Go check. And, my shirt, let me tell you…Peyton (me): I think that we need to end the interview at this point.
PoisonedStudent: My shirt. I had a new shirt on, an orange uniform, and it said: “This is just the tip… Of the iceberg lettuce.” That’s all I have to say. Keep your eyes open, Camels. That’s right. Stay away from the burger patties.
Well, it’s no secret that college is a place of learning, not fine dining. Nevertheless, I am appreciative of the effort it takes to run all of the busy facilities, not just dining. And, of course, UMass-Amherst might have the best college food, but you, my friend, decided not to go there, even though you’re in-state. Look, if everyone can agree on something, it’s this. Good food? Of course. That’s one of Conn’s values. (You wish).