My loyal blog reader will know what the title of this post refers to. However, for the other person that has recently slipped into a lonely and depressing period in their life, er... I mean started to read my blog, I will explain. An earlier post in August discussed the strange appliance rules imposed by the housing czars at the Graduate College. On the list of unapproved appliances is an assortment of water kettles, a multitude of lamps, candles or candle warmers, and microwaves of any sort. However, I chose to press my luck by owning a microwave. Actually, I bought it prior to knowing many of these electrical policies. And what choice was I given since I was expected to live here for 3 weeks without any kitchen or open cafeteria. Given these circumstances, I kept the microwave and hid it under my bed so that if I were subject to an unannounced dorm inspection I might have a chance of avoiding the law on this one.
So despite my disbelief that people here really have nothing better to do (...like cleaning my shared bathroom which needs a good bleaching) than go door to door looking for contraband water kettles and candles, I came home to find I had been the subject of a search. A small paper was left on my desk informing me that a person had entered my room and I would be receiving an e-mail in the next 5 days informing me of the results of the search. Adrenaline rushed through my body as I quickly turned around to see if the inspector had discovered my secret microwave. It was still there, and I had made my bed in the morning so as to cover the gap between the floor and the bed frame where the microwave resides. (I've never made my bed regularly in my life except for now, and the main reason is to hide the evidence of the microwave.) However, I noticed that the cord was slightly exposed at the end of the bed. Had I been careless with the cord? Was I going to receive an angry e-mail threatening confiscation, fines, expulsion, jail time, court fees...? Should I abandon my education and flee to Mexico, or maybe Belize? I hear they don't extradite prisoners there and the local universities can't be that bad.
A few hours later I went to dinner and asked my friends if they were also under investigation. Turns out the gestapo was in full force today as several of them had also received a notice. One girl had the same experience last week. She and her roommates (she lives in a four person suite) were the owners of three unapproved water kettles. Notice I say "were". It turns out that if the secret police find something they don't like they immediately take it with them. Somewhere on campus there must be a large room full of all sorts of kitchen fare. Or perhaps some Princeton official has a kitchen counter lined with hundreds of water kettles and candle warmers. Anyway, according to my friend, the promised e-mail is then sent to inform you of the $50 fine they are assessing you through your student account. Incidentally, she and her roommates must collectively pay $150. I was elated; not that she had to fork over $50, but that I was likely not going to have to transfer my credits to the University of Belize. Assuming that since my lovely microwave is still in my room, I must have escaped the eyes of my local appliance inspector. But until I have the all clear from the forthcoming e-mail, I think I'll start looking into whether or not UofB accepts credits from Princeton.
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