I remember when $100 was a lot of money. Many years ago, I recall watching a show hosted by that consummate entertainer Bozo the Clown. He selected small children, chosen by a random number draw, who faced the Herculean task of tossing ping pong balls into increasingly distant "Bozo Buckets." Any child who could sink all six buckets earned a crisp $100 bill. I recall, at the time, pining for that $100 -- the countless packs of Fruit Stripe gum I could have purchased! Oh, how devoted I was to those sticks of terrible gum -- my happysticks, I could have called them.
Of course, times change, and nowadays a hundred bucks seems like nearly nothing. This is not to say that patricians like me simply have no use for petty pocket change -- as of yesterday a big win on Bozo's Show would have increased my bank balance threefold. At the same time, I no longer measure my money in terms of how much Fruit Stripe Gum I can buy with it. (Mostly, this is because I would get depressed; the cost of my Biology books for this term would have paid for a pack of Fruit Stripe a day for a year.)
I'm apparently not the only one who thinks that $100 bucks simply fails to cut the mustard these days. The Student Assembly debate on Tuesday showed that, among students incensed enough to respond to a Blitz survey about dining halls, 96 percent of them oppose the proposed $100-per-term spending limit at the DDS-owned Topside convenience store.
I have since heard people say that they have dropped over $50 up in that miniature-convenience store in a single visit. They could make less than two visits there a term! What is this, the Soviet freaking Union?
Really, there probably are some good arguments against this spending cap. Such delicacies as Beef Steak Nuggets and Bubba Burgers simply aren't available to students at other DDS venues, and depriving students of these things is like depriving a plant of light, a kitten of string or a goat of tin cans. They'll live, but what kind of life will it be?
Nonetheless, in order to investigate the claims that students will spend their entire Topside allotment on their first visit, I perused the isles of Topside looking for coherent ways to spend 100 dollars.
It's really not as easy as it sounds. Of course, if you just bought enough packages of Thompson bagels, then yes, you would spend $100. But I think that's cheating -- you don't use the declining balance account to finance a bagel brunch for your 12 dozen closest friends for the same reason you do not use a monkey wrench to remove a tapeworm. It's just gross. (I know, I'm going to the penalty box for that one.)
In a few scenarios however, spending your entire Topside allotment would not only prove possible, but prudent. Take for instance, this fairly common situation: you have invited a professor to dinner in your dorm room where you intend to seduce him or her. You have no cash and three days. You decide to finance the date using your Topside allowance. Feasible, no?
First, you're going to need to look good. Spring for the Clearasil Acne Cream ($11.13), a Gilette Mach 3 ($14.49) and some Hair Mayonnaise ($12.81). Next, you'll need to get your professor feeling comfortable. Since professors have Cheese and Wine at just about every event they attend, you'll need to provide some Breton Crackers ($3.49) and a block of cheese ($3.09). Wine is not available at Topside, but a glass of White Cranberry Juice ($4.79) ought to do the trick. Finally, to complete the ambiance, you should clean your room and buy candles. Regrettably, the only candles you can find are intended for birthday cakes ($2.09, I think...I can't really read my own notes).
Now it's time to move on to dinner. If you want to serve them the most elegant meal you can cook in a dorm room where microwaves are outlawed, you will probably want to get an order of Sunja's Sushi; you might want to throw in one extra order in case your professor wants seconds (two at $6.80 each -- $13.60).
For dessert, accent some Peppridge Farm Pirouettes ($5.99) with the option of some Ghirardelli Hot Chocolate ($5.69).
If this doesn't have your professor's creative juices flowing, you should have considered taking him/her to a restaurant, cheapskate. However, as a last ditch effort, offer them a nightcap of Scope Mouthwash ($5.46). On the off chance that this succeeds, be prepared for a night of wild fun by purchasing a can of aerosol whipped topping ($2.89) and some high quality maple syrup ($6.03). Procure prophylactics from a hallmate, for at Topside they go on DASH.
Finally, be prepared for the best of all possible outcomes by purchasing a breakfast that will instill in your professor that silencing guilt: a box of Cap'n Crunch and a half gallon of 2 percent milk ($4.99 + $1.89 -- $6.88). Hand them a single Hershey's kiss on their way out ($0.10), and as the door closes open a pack of Orbit gum ($1.19), because nothing complements conquest like mint. Your total: $99.72.
What does this example tell us? It is easier and less expensive to seduce students. But also, you really have to try to spend that much money at Topside. It's not impossible to do it in ways easier than the one I've just outlined.
If you are into buying cases of Red Bull, for instance (24 energy drinks for $60) or the ludicrously expensive Crest White Strips ($59.10), you probably would overspend your 100 limit in no time.
Nonetheless, for those of us who visit Topside for a weekly 12-pack, the occasional candy bar and paper plates once a term, the spending cap is more Fruit than Stripe and more Bozo than Bucket.
