The ConU Candy Caper

Graphic Joshua Barkman

Something fishy is going on in the hallways of Concordia.

After graduating high school, where healthy eating habits were forced on students by pesky government health boards and soda in schools was about as easy to come by as textbooks published in the 21st century, university was supposed to be a calorie-filled paradise.

Last year, instead of juice-dispensing, granola-filled vending machines, the proximity of a can of Pepsi to any given classroom was about ten paces—an absolutely glorious amenity. There’s nothing like the feeling of your stomach lining slowly deteriorating with each delicious sip of Mountain Dew, as it keeps you from falling asleep during a lecture.

But those days are long gone, and I have come to reference the good old days of fully stocked and working vending machines at ConU the way our predecessors reminisce about penny candy.

Now, these machines that used to provide at least some of our daily sustenance are under-stocked traps, never providing the good flavour of Miss Vickie’s and always eager to take your toonie and give nothing in return.

So what’s going on here? I call conspiracy—a sneaky under-the-table plan to get us all into shape now that the escalators are working again.

Stay tuned for next week’s investigative report on the subject—that is, if I can keep the sugar level of my soda-free body high enough to actually get out of bed.

—Katie McGroarty,
Fringe Arts Editor