Real people have to deal with your mess

Remember second grade? How there was always that guy mixing his ketchup and mashed potatoes and orange juice into one revolting glob of vomit-colored mush? Actually, some of those folks never quite grew out of it.

In our very own Ivy League dining hall, there are signs written in a large, legible font right next to the trash cans. These signs — and there are no fewer than three in some halls — unambiguously urge all consumers to please clear their trays of any food and paper before they send them down the conveyor belt to a frazzled worker on the other end.

Having been that frazzled worker many a time myself, I can only shake my head in astonished disgust when yet another tray laden with three paper plates, 12 used napkins and a deluge of jelly, syrup and peanut butter comes waltzing down the line. As I bitterly clean up after this person's slobbery, I marvel at how artistically, athletically or otherwise talented the owner of this tray must be that he or she gained admission to Princeton despite being entirely unable to read.

The dining hall crews are paid quite well, and the work is not designed to be unpleasant. However, there are several ways that our fellow students, either maliciously or inadvertently, render it so.

If one student sloshes some applesauce on the counter, fails to push in his chair, forgets a glass on the table and accidentally leaves some potato skins on his tray, the problem is minimal at worst. However, when entire groups of students do all of these things repeatedly, the nightmare easily approaches unfathomable proportions.

Some problems can be averted with simple common sense. If you spill or break something in the dining hall, just tell a worker: He or she will know where to find a mop or broom and the issue will be resolved within minutes. If you like to pour salt on the table just to watch it pile up, rethink your maturity enough to at least do it on a napkin instead. Return the bottles of hot sauce and honey when you are done with them, or better yet, don't remove them from the counter in the first place.

If you "don't have time" to clean up after yourselves, please remember: neither do we! Have mercy.

No single person would have to do anything extraordinary to make the crews' lives tolerable. Even a halfhearted attempt to minimize a mess or reduce the number of dishes you use goes a long way. Ask yourself: Do you really need six glasses of Powerade for dinner, or could you maybe just use three and refill them once? Six glasses is a lot to put away when the tray is whizzing by and there are three or four equally messy ones right behind it.

There is usually one tray each night that really wins the [insert expletive here] Award. A mess that revolting cannot possibly be made unintentionally; even with remarkable natural talent. Such results are attained only with great effort and practice. These are the times we wish everyone had to work a day in the dining hall — the examples that remind us why Leninism had its merits.

To be fair, most people are not so insensitive. Many who themselves work in the dining hall or have friends who do take pains to be as clean and careful as possible. To those of you that fall into this category, I express the enthusiastic gratitude of a most approving crew. Thank you for realizing that we are not your maids or mothers, that we have as little time and patience with slobbery as you would and that we are no longer in second grade. We really appreciate it.

Sanhita Sen is a freshman from Yorktown, Va. You can reach her at sen@princeton.edu.