After one month of experimentation of the Co-op Adventure, the time has come for a checkup. Yes, dearest fellow disciples, Co-op is a human adventure, Co-op is a jungle, Co-op is an inferno: as a sauna where tempting to conceal the signature of the culinary excesses in which you have guiltily immersed yourself recently would be vain and way too obvious, the dining hall has become to me the modern embodiment of the noble tool regretted by some: the gallows. Now, I must confess, brothers, my abominable crime, this infamy which tortures me three times a day: one month has passed, and still, I can’t remember a single one of your bedevilled names!

I am surely not lacking in willingness, believe me dear hangmen, I have endeavoured everything in order to correct my awful flaw: I made you repeat twice, thrice, five, fifteen, thirty-seven times the sweet nicknames your high minded procreators had attributed to you and each time, you have thought, intercepting this reassuring look « This time she’ll get it, for sure! » while I was reiterating the same request twice in a row in a very short interval, as a result of forgetting the combination of your appellation and physiognomy: an explosive cocktail. 150 Co-opers and the memory storage space requires maintenance.

To work around this problem and to escape the wrath of my interlocutors accidentally mutilated, I opted for various alternatives, that I urge everyone else to use if you share those tribulations: the first option is passivity, it consists of remaining invisible in a conversation and of looking out for the opportune moment when the name of the unknown X will appear suddenly from the mouth of a resident at the table. Next step: parrot this interjection and repeat this name aloud in order to print it on your mind, repetition which can appear in a form of a “Go X!” or a more casual “You’re so silly, X” ; or even better: “Is there any crounchy-choco-top-banana-cinnamon explosions’ muffins left, X?”. Thus, you prove irrevocably to the dissidents that you take X’s name for granted, at least till the end of the meal…

Another way widespread among some Co-op brains enigmatically metamorphosed into oubliettes – is the Co-op’s Kitchen Schedule: you too, have remained petrified when you have desired to elegantly thank the cards checker who has remembered your own name (I know, one can argue that it’s his/her duty, but still, it goes right to the heart); if it turned impossible to irrigate your mouth when the moment has come to take back your plate; finally, despite all your most desperate attempts, you found both of your vocal cords stuck together when it comes to ask for an extra dollop of whipped cream on the top of your waffle? Soothe your stirred senses, the kitchen schedule is your best friend: you locate the function of the person you are looking for, the day and time, and use these coordinates to pinpoint your target.

The last tactic, and probably the safest one in terms of discretion and openings on a long-term period, consists of surrounding yourself with acolytes of attested competencies: you have unsuccessfully harassed X several times, you have failed at the time of the examination of the schedule, discerning the ponytail of X at the corner of Brock Street (or worst of all, on the stairs of the dining hall) is enough to have you perspire like a libidinous grown man addicted to those lewd websites… Then your acolyte is your second best friend, your Bible: you only need to interrogate in a low voice, to give him a quick questioning look pointing in X’s direction, then to execute with a subtle about-turn, a breathtaking descent of your nose in your mix tofu-leek soup, pricking your ears up attentively. Surely enough, the best way of getting access to the supreme knowledge – and getting pass the “hey…you!” step of dubious taste.

Therefore, thanks to the ingenious brainwaves of the Co-op community, I do not dread obeying the dictate of my stomach that drags me inexorably toward this source of nutritious comfort three times a day, and even better, I dare sometimes raise a shy hand and apostrophize a Co-op mate without feeling like a traitor!