Dear Cody: Finding Courage in the Booth Room

Midd-blog readers, lost prospective students looking for information about Quidditch and individuals who regularly google my name, welcome to my new advice column/series “Dear Cody.” Every week (or whenever I’m bored slash don’t want to do my reading for intro to contemporary lit. theory) I’ll be taking posts from Midd Confessional and imposing my advice on the anonymous OP (confesh slang for original poster).

Dear OP,

I recently came across your post: i wish i had the courage to ask you out, but i’ll always be a coward…hate that about myself.” As someone who perpetually and indefinitely (as well as sustainably for all you eco-crazed febs) loves himself, I find myself attracted to correcting/helping any behavior that implies that someone has low self-esteem.

Which leads me to my first piece of advice for you OP: you don’t hate yourself. You are a smart, first world individual who managed to get into a school that rejects 82% of its applicants, which means that something amazing is going on in your gene pool. Celebrate the fact that you’ve made it to a school that serves you both Thanksgiving dinners and Greek food, a school that affords you the privilege to study great authors with great authors.

And as far as the courage bit goes, my advice is to go to the booth room. For those of you not in the know, the booth room is located on the first floor of Proctor near the dish-washing room. The ambiance is sublime with tan vinyl booth covers, lighting that you can control and a menagerie of inhabitants that are quirky future pledges of the Mill. It’s the go/toplace for low-pressure hang-out situations of all kinds: after-class debriefings about Shakespeare as well as morning after hook-up coffee over frittatas and diced potatoes.

If you want to spend time with someone (platonically or otherwise) suggest a pre-dinner tea date in the booth room. They’ll be impressed by your savvy, yet won’t feel overwhelmed by you having asked them on a date into town to try out the new Thai place. Plus, if things go sour, there’s a 8/10 chance that someone you know will be eating in Proctor anyway, so you can always make a mad dash to their table afterward to drown your sorrows in a bowl of granola.

So buy a thick scarf and a copy of Ulysses and get ready for the non-date date of your lifetime.

With love and admiration,