I visited my alma mater a couple weekends ago for no particular reason. Perhaps it was a poorly chosen weekend since I hate crowds and because, upon my arrival, I found out there was a conference that very same weekend. Keynote speaker(s), seminars, quads crawling with alumni -- you get the idea. The few places to eat and drink in town were sure to be jammed all weekend.

My favorite place to get breakfast (the only place) was extremely crowded both mornings. It's small, tastefully decorated, and makes an outstanding breakfast. The line of patrons-to-be extended from the hostess stand to the front door -- a line whose length intimidates the casual visitor and steels the hunger of the committed.

It was worth it both mornings, but on Sunday I wound up in line next to an alumni couple in their late 50s or early 60s. Since I look young enough to still be in college, I assume they assumed I was a current student. I don't mind making small talk with strangers usually, but I felt a responsibility in talking to this couple as though I represented the average student.

"What's that marking on your hand?" was the first thing the

woman

woman asked me. "There's another girl in there with the same thing on her hand."

"It's from a party," I explained.

"Oh." A pause. "They used to stamp our hands at dances." I wasn't sure if I should say anything else, so I didn't. I thought in describing the licentious money-Sharpie-keg cup-inebriation sequence her sensibilities would be offended.

My friend, the actual current student, showed up at this point and we started talking about classes he was taking. He's taking Bowling, which I'd taken, and we went on about how much we liked the teacher, how to prepare for Bowling II, what made a good name for a bowling ball, etc. The woman, who had been innocently eavesdropping as anyone would have, interjected at a break in the conversation: "I used to think college students talked about philosophy and that kind of thing." Another pause. "I guess it helps to be well-rounded," she added.

I thought for a second and replied, "Especially if you're a bowling ball." We shared a moment of laughter followed by silence until we were seated.