One of the benefits in attending such a monstrous university is the cultural diversity that comes together for one reason, for the trivial pursuit of a diploma or an overall misunderstanding of a dead concept known as “higher learning”. However, despite this diversity, we as human beings always find comfort in people who are familiar to us. You see it everywhere – in the Student Union, in the commuter lounge, even in classrooms; people like to hang out with their own kind. Now there are always exceptions to the rule. You’ll always see the occasional multicultural duo hanging out diligently discussing where their last class left off. However, these are few and far between and I find myself a bit disillusioned with the whole concept of unity especially in this day and age. However this all changed.

It was a Tuesday and I found myself to be low on cash and quite hungry and I took a chance and ventured out to the King. As I walked in, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary – it seemed to be the same old situation that joint is in every afternoon. A flood of lunch-goers fresh out of their classes pouring into this place in order to quench their hunger for incredibly unhealthy food, even though they do offer a new Atkins plan menu! But after further investigation it seems to just be the meat without the bun. They’re trying, though! It’s when I ordered that I noticed that perhaps Burger King was a part of something much bigger then just selling food quickly at good prices. Perhaps they have unlocked the key to racial harmony.

It appears that the trainee that is taking my order has learned his two first English sentences today! “How may I help you?” and “What size?” Congratulations! The trainer next to you will help you on this arduous journey down the road of your second language fore he knows over 11 phrases. Apparently Burger King is also an equal employer to the attractively impaired. I feel confident that my burger is made with the loving care of a hideous creature who was qualified for the position and not some lackey attractive person who is nothing more then clear skin and a smile. The managers stumble around and every now and then fill up the over sized liters of cola for all those in-line. They act as if they’re oblivious to the cultural phenomenon that is taking place in front of their eyes, but we all know better.

As I get my food and scan the room for somewhere to sit, I begin to notice what is taking place in this microcosmic melting pot. The dinning room is a literal rainbow of colors and sizes, races and cultures, religions and subcultures; it’s a beautiful thing. It’s not just the clichés, either. Sure, black dudes and white girls are talking to one another but that’s not all. Asians are chatting with Indians, Hispanics with Caucasians, and Intuits with Jamaicans – all under one roof. They’re all discussing politics, current events, their CSE homework, and who-fucked-who. My eyes began to water as I bit into my Chicken Whopper and I said out loud “What a time to be alive.”