The quest for a bench endeth today

We didn’t have our Environmental Science class this morning and there were rumors going around that we’d have a free cut in Filipino as well. After whooping and cheering, my blockmates and I stood in the hallway of SEC (Science Education Complex) deciding what to do for the next three hours.

“Let’s eat,” I enthusiastically suggested.

“Yeah, let’s eat!”

“Hey, I’ve got a DVD of Old School with me.”

“Old School! That movie is pure stupidity. Let’s go watch!”

“My house. ‘Tara!”

The guys began quoting lines from the movie as we made our way to the parking lot.

“But wait…” one of my blockmates interrupted. Everyone stopped walking to listen to her. “What if we don’t have a free cut for Filipino? We need to know the coverage of Friday’s exam.”

“Aw come on, let’s just cut! Our prof’s just gonna discuss post-modernism, and that won’t be included in the exam.”

“Well, she’s got a point. I don’t really want to miss anything,” I said. “Then again, what if there really is a free cut? We’re gonna regret wasting one hour at school.”

After a lengthy debate, we decided not to risk the cut and to veg at the caf like what we do during breaks. As we made our way back, one of my blockmates suddenly said, “You guys, guess what? I think we have a bench already.”

“Huh?”

“See, my brother has four benches and he offered us two of them.”

“Really? No shit! Where’s it at?”

“Kostka Hall. You guys wanna check it out?”

“Sure!”

You see, there’s this thing in my school called the Bench Culture. There are benches along the hallways of the buildings in campus and that’s where the students hang out. Where you sit pretty much defines what kind of person you are; for instance, there’s a conyo bench for the rich snobs and a bench for the cheerleading team. People can get really territorial about their benches. Bench owners know who belongs to the bench and who doesn’t, and when someone who isn’t from the bench tries to sit there, things can get pretty nasty. Particularly in the conyo bench. I kind of despise the Bench Culture because it sounds so petty and high school-ish, but lately I’ve been hoping that my blockmates and I could find a bench of our own. I guess it’s because of the exclusivity of the whole thing. It’s kind of nice to know that you belong to a place not just anyone can be a part of. Besides, a bench would make finding my friends a whole lot easier.

After meeting up with my blockmate’s brother and thanking him, we made our way to our two new benches. For some reason, I couldn’t help feeling like a hypocrite.

I sat down next to my blockmate. We looked at each other.

“Now what do we do?” she asked.

I shrugged. “We veg.”

Really, a bench is pretty much like a seat at the caf minus the crowd and the food conveniently located two feet away from you.