Students obey hunger late at night

In the wee hours of a Sunday morning — or late Saturday night, as it's usually considered — the average Princetonian is stranded halfway between dinner and brunch. Fortunately, there are a variety of options available to the hungry college student in the interim between sunset and sunrise: the U2 store, Frist Campus Center and the WaWa Market.

But how does a hunger-dazed student choose? In an effort to end the blatant sectionalism that currently characterizes late-night eating, with Forbesians favoring the 'Wa and those upcampus clinging to the U2, this reporter set out to explore the subtleties of three a.m. dining.

The U2 seemed the most blatantly transactional spot on campus. While even in the 'Wa customers might stay and talk a bit as they wait for their "number four" to be prepared, those in the U2 were primarily concerned with grabbing their food and leaving as quickly as possible. Two students arrived together; otherwise, the shoppers tended to be solo. What could it be that caused these students to rush away? A thesis, or something less dire?

If you had hoped to find some people who were awake for the fun of it, you might've headed to Cafe Vivian, which was the liveliest place on campus at an hour when many people have already gone to sleep.

A small group of people was listening to the quintet Raw Talent play its final songs. The music was eclectic — the bassist and drummer played jazz, while two vocalists took turns rapping and the keyboardist's style was somewhere in between.

Ben, a Frist employee and a veteran listener of late-night performances, was impressed by the Rutgers-based group.

"They were good," he said. "We just threw stuff at them, and they played it — they never got stumped. Even old songs, they knew everything!"

Although Ben usually tries to work earlier in the evening, he said he also enjoys working the late night shift.

"If there's no band, I get to pick the music. And we get all kinds of people — heading out to the Street or heading back home. It's . . . interesting," he said, laughing. "It keeps me entertained."

Around 1 a.m., the food court was a little less busy than Cafe Viv, but Cheryl, sitting behind the register, was confident she would get more business within the next hour. Asked if customers returning from the Street ever presented a problem, she said there were usually no major incidents — but that's not to say her job is dull.

"One time we did have a kid who paid for [his] head," she recalled of one inebriated customer. "He refused to leave until we let him pay for his head. So we did."

"What did you charge it as?" a student wanted to know.

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"Frozen yogurt — he insisted on weighing it, and frozen yogurt is something that will activate the scale."

How much did he pay? "Three dollars," Cheryl informed us.

Convinced that my own head was worth at least twice that, I headed over to the much-busier 'Wa, notebook in hand. The man making subs glanced over suspiciously.

"What are you writing? Do you work for Wawa?" he asked.

It would have been nice to be have been an undercover 'Wa inspector, but no: just The Daily Princetonian.

It was now nearly 2 a.m. — nearly 3 a.m., actually, with the change to daylight savings time. Outside, on the way back to Frist, a staggering philosopher exclaimed, "Wow, there are birds! It's like the morning!"

Three a.m. crowd, definitely.