It came about time for the weekend and all of us Resident Assistants felt the overwhelming need to get off campus to enjoy a little pro mini golf. You see, this is normally a fun and light-hearted game that one casually enjoys at their leisure with friends and/or loved ones but not for us. For us, this game was a demonstration of our bravery and warlike valor! On the mini golf battlefield, our honor was wagered. Some came out victors yet others fell to crushing defeats. The day started out with a nice, little lunch at 1:00pm. This lunch was rather a breakfast for me, considering the fact that I had only woken up half an hour prior to our rendezvous on third floor DeNaples. You see, third floor DeNaples is one of The University of Scranton’s eating spots, and it also happens to be the place where I commit the most sins because it is buffet style eating. There are some dinners where my sins tower six plates high! Unfortunately almost all of the food catches my eyes on third floor, especially on upscale Wednesdays where they serve steaks or lavish seafood masterpieces. In the end I just tell myself that I am forever bulking. I digress.
As soon as I finished my immense breakfast of champions, the RAs carpooled to a nearby town called Clarks Summit to wage war and challenge honor in mini golf. The ten of us were split into two groups; obviously my group was the cooler of the two. There were eighteen long holes on which we conducted battle. In the last three holes, my score was closely mirrored by a worthy adversary, miss Abigail Hatch. The two of us tangoed all the way down to the last stroke on hole eighteen. Golf balls flew and putters clashed but in the end, with serendipitous luck, I pulled ahead of Abbey by a hair! Let me be clear, this was no easy feat; Abbey fought valiantly! When both groups were finished putting their eighteen holes, we all decided to head over to a place called Manning’s located very near to Scranton. Manning’s is a local ice cream shop that has its own farm where they raise their own cows, milk them, and make their own ice cream from the fruits of their labor. This was the first time that I have ever sampled Manning’s but let me tell you, I have never tasted an ice cream so rich and so superior to pretty much any other ice cream I have devoured. A good friend of mine, Chris Kilner, once said that the milk to make Manning’s ice cream surely came from a golden cow. After today I believe him.