I remember visiting Witt as a senior in high school. The old bricks were nice and the professors were accommodating. Afraid and unaware, I started my freshman year open-minded. I found myself underprepared for the workload and silently cursed myself for not learning better time management skills in high school. Little did I know that nothing could prepare me for what I was to find at Witt during my four years: my first and only true love.
My favorite place to do homework quickly became Post 95. I enjoyed the dull chatter from nearby students with the occasional booming laughter from Darletta in the back kitchen. One day, after spending a particularly long time studying, I decided to grab dinner with my Witt Gold. I went with the junior sub with ranch, lettuce and tomatoes. Rookie mistake.
My nearby lover screamed from their frozen position in the freezer, and yet I could not hear their precious cries.
Months went by. My Post orders slowly grew more diverse but my love had still yet to be found. Chicken tenders, bean burgers, stir fry, they were all good, but something was missing – I was never truly satisfied.
I heard rumors of a mysterious concoction of oozing cheese and crisp, salted breading. Stubborn as I was, I told myself that the rumors were too good to be true, nothing that extraordinary could exist in such a place as this.
But then, one Wednesday night, I caved. I was preparing to pull an all-nighter working on a paper that I had inevitably procrastinated on. I wanted to make sure I had a little midnight motivation in order to move through the paper, so I went to Post promptly before they closed.
I had already eaten dinner so I didn’t need anything heavy, just a little salty snack to hold me through the night. Waffle fries were always a good move but, what’s that, mozzarella sticks? That’s what everyone has been talking about. They were available for a limited time only at the time, so I had to take advantage of my moment of weakness, an order of mozzarella sticks and waffle fries it is.
I sat down in a booth and some of my nearby friends applauded my choice. A solid six minutes later, my name was called and a white bag with grease stains sat waiting for me. I returned my table in the Honors House eager to see what this small white bag had in store for me.
A wave of fried goodness hit my face as I opened the bag. There they sat. Five mozzarella sticks sat staring at me. Their aroma filled the room and I became overwhelmed. Thrusting my fingers into the bag I grabbed the first one I felt and shoved it into my mouth. A long string of white cheese extended out from my mouth as I pulled the fried prize away from my mouth.
This was a moment of true ecstacy. The perfect combination of salty and gooey goodness blew my mind. My soul sang songs of rejoice after finally being united with my other half. I sat enjoying those five mozzarella sticks for nearly half an hour before I resumed work on my paper. My Wittenberg experience has never been the same. Now this, was love.
After my love and I found each other on that humble Wednesday night, I spent nearly all of my Witt Gold on those mozzarella sticks. We went on numerous dates: to my house, Post, Torch office and even during work in the mailroom. We were inseparable. Those mozzarella sticks were truly my first love at Witt.
