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BC Separation Anxiety: Monopoly money

BC Separation Anxiety is a blog in which I lament all things BC related that I will miss this summer. The whining is rampant. 

#to #go

Welcome tah Dunkin’ Donuts, may I take ya ordah? 

Hi, uhm, actually I was wondering if you take Eagle Bucks?

Heh? Eagle Bucks?

Oh you know, Eagle Bucks? A magical form of currency in which I swipe my card and you give me coffee with no real money changing hands?

**Gleeful cackling**


So went one of my more unsuccessful drive-thru endeavors at Dunkin’ Donuts recently. Okay not really, but I imagine it would have been something along those lines.

The first few weeks home are always a rude awakening when, upon reaching into my wallet, I have to forgo the Eagle I.D. and hand over my debit card instead. It’s the struggle to end all struggles, the first world problem to rival the unfortunate battery life of my smartphone: Wait, you actually expect me to pay real money for my coffee?

I can practically hear my dad’s eyes rolling through the computer screen as he reads the phrase “real money.”  As I’m constantly reminded, Eagle Bucks are “real money,” they’re just not my money. Touché Father, touché. However, I like to think of my dining dollars as Monopoly money.


Yeah I own Red Sox-opoly. What of it?

I get two 500s, two 100s, two 50s, six 20s, five 10s, five 5s, and five 1s at the beginning of every semester. (Booya, did that from memory. Guess who was always forced to be the Banker growing up?)  I can spend it however I want, whether it’s through the reliable acquisition of railways or the risky hotel development on Orange properties (obviously the best fake real estate investment).


Photo courtesy of Rob Rossi.

Putting that into BC terms, I can buy food for myself and splurge on Hillside occasionally OR I can forgo my own nutritional needs and feed starving seniors in the hopes that they’ll feel obligated to invite me to parties in the future.  It’s all about calculated risk. Sure, railways are okay, but the pay-off isn’t nearly as sweet as a couple of hotels on St. James Place. Likewise, is it worth running out of meal plan money if I can call in favors with Mod dwellers? Probably.

There’s even a long-term payout to this strategy. Clearly I have fed my fair share of malnourished upper classmen. So, as next semester looms ahead of me with all of its off-campus starvation horror, I hope all of my freshman babies know that they will be following tradition and donating any and all of their extra meal-plan money to the Feed Emily Fund. And so the Circle of Life (Bribery) goes on.


But I digress. This Circle of Bribery would never exist without the ever-handy Eagle Buck. This summer, not only do I not have the option to trade “free” food for parties, I don’t even have the option to get “free” coffee. It’s a conundrum which has lead me to seriously consider taking to panhandling (I’d probably make more than I do at my job) or starting a blue-collar Ponzi scheme that targets gullible farmers in my town. Either or, I can’t decide.

Normally I would complain about not being able to get “free” food, Late Night, cookies, etc., but my main problem right now is the coffee. I can go without food, or at least without appetizing food. The other day I brought a container of hummus and a spoon to work for lunch, so just think about that for a second.

On the other hand I can’t go without coffee. Me without coffee is like Andy Samberg when he runs out of coke in this video:


On a recent pizza excursion my co-worker described my car as a Dunkin’s graveyard, due to the tragically huge number of empties rolling around in the back seat. My caffeine consumption is out of control and my $10/hour job is having a hard time keeping up at the moment. Eagle Bucks, Eagle Bucks wherefore art thou, Eagle Bucks?

I just want my iced-coffee from the Rat, or soy chai from Hillside, or ghetto Dunkachino (half hot chocolate half coffee) from Lower. It’s not like they’re even better than Dunkin’s or Starbucks. They’re just free.

It’s a total first-world problem. I 100% acknowledge that. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t sorely miss my Monopoly money parent’s lovingly provided monetary support for my caffeine addiction.

 Photos by Emily Akin/Gavel Media

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School, major and year: A&S, English, 2015
Hometown Charlton, MA
Favorite Beyonce lyric: "I probably won't make no money off this, oh well."