Joe Seery, counter-man extraordinary, bus-boy of the first water, is one of those who stand and wait in Arthur's Incorporated. He cannot understand the reason for the agitation and concern over the rapid eating habits of the student body.
"Why do they say that the boys dash in and eat and dash out again?" queried Joe, lifting the reporter's coffee-cup, and with one swoop of a cloth dispersing crumbs and other foreign substances on the table. "They cone in and they stand around and can't decide whether they want a sea-going or two black-and-tans and a large milk. And then they take their own time eating and when I come to take the dishes they aren't finished yet, and they hang on to the plates and hinder my work. And when they've finally paid their bill, they think they'll have another milk and a piece of cake, and a newspaper and a cigarette. You can't tell me that the boys get indigestion from eating too fast."
Here another counter-man, who refused to divulge his name, also spoke of the leisurely social practices of the cafeteria habitues. "They come in there," declared the Georgian Ganymede, who wore a white apron and cap, "just loaded down with books and papers, and get their lunch and make a regular library out of the place, spreading it thick all over the tables. And at night, there's a regular bunch of night-ows who stay here and do everything but hoot. I don't know anything about how fast they eat, but they do make a slow and sociable affair out of their meals."
Whatever alarm there may be over rapid-transit dining about Harvard Square, there is none behind the counters of the food marts. Scaling their wares over the counter, the food-dispensers are speeding the guests on the way, careless alike of stomachic disturbances and desire for casual talk, both of which seem to be present in the student body.