David Lam

 

opcoll@siwash.be.ca

Dear Coquitlam Cafeteria Staff,

I have one little question to ask the
kitchen staff in Coquitlam? Why the
hell don’t you people serve food for
the evening students who attend
classes? Do they not starve? I have
heard that you were making money on
Tuesdays and Thursdays but were not
making money Mondays, Wednesdays,
and Fridays. There are many students
and instructors who are hungry and
want food between classes. If the
kitchen staff doesn’t provide food for
these poor souls who will? I’m pretty
sure that if another food stand took up

also heard that if a group within the
college is fund-raising, they can hold
bake sales. If there are any enterpris-
ing individuals out there, haul your
butts over to David Lam. You people
could make a shitload of money
selling cookies, cupcakes, do-nuts, or
whatever.

I am writing this letter not but
because I attend classes in the evening
but there is a certain instructor I know
who raised this topic in class. This
letter is aimed at the caffeteria staff in
hopes that you will resume your

 

 

shop and doled out morsels of food,
there would be more than a few
grumbles. From what I understand, the
company that runs the David Lam
Cafeteria is the only company that is
allowed to serve food to the student
populace of Douglas College. I have

operations of feeding the nocturnal
students. If you won’t pick up the
slack, I’m pretty sure a few entrepre-
neurs will.

Yours Truly,
Hugh Jass

 

by Stu Pidasso

My Thanksgiving weekend started
off on a good note, as most of my
weekends do, but resulted as being the
“Thanksgiving From Hell.” For the
most part, I enjoyed the long weekend.
It all started out as a pleasant, relaxing,
ordinary Sunday. I watched a few
football games and I played a few
computer games. Nothing could
prepare me for the fiery hell that
would come later that day.

I had just finished my great big
turkey dinner with all the fixings. It
was a nice dinner. My mom’s stuffing,
as always, was delicious and my
favorite part of my Thanksgiving
meal. We had fluffy mashed potatoes
and thick, tasty gravy. I thoroughly
enjoyed my turkey drumsticks and the
odd piece of white meat.

This was a particularly good Turkey
Day because of the fact that my father
was joining us. Ever since my parents
split up, we don’t eat together all that
regularly. For the most part, we had

fun. This would, of course, change.
Thus, the name of this article.

After finishing my turkey feast, I
retired to my room to let the mass of
food digest in my gut. I would need to
rest awhile before attempting the
mountain of dishes that awaited me in
the kitchen. Why is it that the better
tasting meals always are accompanied
with twice the amount of dishes? I was
listening to my radio and if I remem-
ber correctly, CFOX was blasting
Metallica’s song ‘Hero of the Day.’
Then the shit hit the fan.

For some stupid reason, I thought
that the weekend would end on a high
note: my stomach would be full, I
would spend some quality time with
the folks and there would be a general
blissful feeling around the house. This
was not to be the case. My parental
units felt that this was the perfect time
to start asking me about how my
academic life was going. They barged
into my room and made a few

comments. The few soft comments
grew like a crescendo into a spine
tingling, hair-raising full fledged war
of words. For some idiotic reason my
folks felt that I was slacking off with
my classes. My mom is never home to
see me do homework so I don’t know
where she gets these ideas from. My
parents seem to forget that in the
Summer semester I was taking three
classes and achieved an A- in Political
Science, a B+ in History, and a B in
Geography. I must admit that I really
didn’t pay a helluva lot of attention to
what was being yelled my direction.

‘As most people would do, I just

simply nodded and said “uh huh”.

The thing that really annoyed me
was the fact that this barrage of
criticism was highly uncalled for. I am
currently up to date in all my classes.
I’m sure I could do better but then
again couldn’t we all. Why would the
whole weekend have to be ruined
because of this incident. My dad even

 

went as far as to check the organiza-
tion and neatness of my notebook. He

was not that impressed. So what if I It all

doodle in my notebook margins. So

what if my notes are illegible. started

They’re my bloody notes and outasa

nobody is to seek their benefits

but me. pleasant,
I cannot think of a worse time rel axing,

for my parents to tear me apart. .
Aren’t the holidays supposed to be ordinary
for sharing good moments with
family. This little incident has just S u nday
made me suspicious of any Christmas 2
dinner. What the hell is the next post
dinner roast going to be about: the fact
a don’t have a full time job?

Has anyone out there in Readerville
ever had an experience like this? If
this fits a situation you have experi-
enced, write in. I would thoroughly
enjoy reading about someone else’s
misfortune instead of having night-
mares about my “Thanksgiving
weekend from hell.”

  

 

© you like to draw, snap photos, invoke your muse, or write contro

versial essays regarding the issues of the day? Do you have a two

hour break between classes that begs to be filled? Do you want to
have the power to influence the masses? If you answered “yes” to any of
these questions, then you are a prime candidate to create a piece for your

student newspaper.

Please stop by. We really do want you, so be persistent (or patient), we're still working

the kinks out.

Our creativity is in desperate need of replenishment.

David Lam office
room a3107
phone: 527-5805

New West office

room 1020

phone: 525-3542

messages: under the door

 

tre

 

A CRUDE
MAP OF
THE 3rd
Floor At

DAVE LAM
CAMPUS

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

STAIRS
¥ 30

synins ¥

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

fax: 527-5095

email: attn: David Lam
opprod@siwash.bc.ca

Join the Conspiracy.

 

 

 

The Other Press

October 29 1996