Hallelujah, It's Raining Tea

Medical school is dangerous.

No, I'm not talking about inadvertent needle sticks, patients with tuberculosis, homicidal drug seekers, or angry nurses. I'm talking about foosball. Yeah, foosball.

This afternoon after classes were over, three friends and I decided to get in a quick game of foosball like we often do before heading home for the day. My teammate and I were winning (as usual), when a giant insulated beverage dispenser fell off a ledge and plummeted down to the floor below where it violently came to rest next to the foosball table. Covered in iced tea and very confused, we slowly glanced up to see a caterer peering down in horror.

Luckily we were all okay, despite our unexpected yet surprisingly pleasant newfound lemony aroma. We cleaned off the foosball table and decided to call it a day.

The Art of Bagel Theft

Before me stands a mountain of bagels so magnificently grand that God himself would be jealous of my handiwork. As the big man stares down from above with his mouth gaping and his sacred drool cascading gently down through the clouds, the villagers of a small Indian seaside town run in terror from the impending monsoon. The sesame seeds glisten in the light of a hundred gently swaying incandescent light bulbs, and the poppy seeds simultaneously snuff out the glow like tiny pinpoint black holes strewn across a universe of flour and sugar. There is an ovarian tumor on a large screen in the distance. I sit in class amongst the sound of scribbling pens and the soft scrape of highlighters across freshly photocopied notes still warm to the touch. I take a large bite and sit back in my chair to cherish the flavor of cool cream cheese and soft dough dancing around my taste buds. I look to my left and see a similar towering peak of taste. My friend gives me a thumbs-up as we both continue chewing.

Medical school is a time of discovery. Here we discover our strengths, but more often than that, we unwillingly unearth our greatest weakness. For many of us, that weakness is bagels. Is there anything on this earth so perfect? I don't claim to know who invented the bagel, and I refuse to believe Wikipedia when it says it was the Polish. I mean, come on, they've already got Chopin, so stop being greedy.

Anyway, regardless of who did or didn't invent the bagel, they remain a staple of any medical student's diet. Obtaining bagels, however, can prove difficult. Admittedly, there are many bagels in medical school, but finding them is the key. More often the not, the bagels in medical school are not for you. They are for somebody else. But much like the ninja of feudal Japan, as medical students we must utilize unorthodox methods of, shall we say, "warfare" in our struggle for bagels.

Last week there were bagels in the student activities center. They had been placed there for the first-year students who were taking a series of exams that week. We swooped in along the rafters and infiltrated the heck out of those bagels.

This week there were bagels for the fourth-year students as they learned important skills for their upcoming transition into residency. Using a slight diversion, we pounced upon those bagels like hundreds of parched wildebeest on a small puddle of muddy water.

The scene is always the same: In a matter of seconds we are upon them, and in a matter of long awkward minutes we are gone. Seriously though, it's hard to make a decent getaway with your pockets and arms full of bagels. But no matter -- we never fail.