Besides the everyday whining that is a never-ending side dish at Centre Marketplace (the all-you-can-eat cafeteria), this fall brought some pretty serious complaints.

Discontent grew among students over everything from the smelly trash compactors and dirty dishes to rude food servers and strange menu ideas like Grilled Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwiches. There were people like myself who scraped up grocery money or used up flex bucks early in the semester to avoid nausea. Not to mention students like freshman Carline Celestin, who attributed vomiting and considerable weight loss to CM (avoiding it, that is).

Everyone seems to know except those who can change things. Becky Bolte, Dining Service Manager for Chartwell’s (FAU’s catering service) has received comment cards with input like, “[The food] makes me sick to the point of vomiting” and “New chef, same old sh*t”.

Bolte points out that their anonymity limit her ability to find solutions. Furthermore, she was hard-pressed to find anyone who would even bring them to her attention.

I didn’t understand until I sought student imput. Ugh! You’d think some people were being interrogated on their participation in Al Qaeda: refusal to give names, have their comments recorded, or comment period although they were visibly unhappy with dining at CM.

What’s the big deal? If you’re paying 1298.50 per semester and you think the service sucks, say something about it. No, you’re not going to lose your scholarship (an actual concern of a certain unnamed athlete). No, you’re not going to lose your dining privileges. No, you’re not going to be arrested, tried for treason and/or hanged. The worst you’ll probably get is a thorough explanation on why things are the way they are instead of when they’ll change. (But hey, that’s bureaucracy).

You’ll be surprised as to how receptive the staff is to criticism. Students are even welcome to the monthly meetings held in the UC about the performance of the center.

My fellow owls, we need not leave dirty messages on comments cards addressing ourselves as “1300 dollars” or “NOYB” (guilty as charged). It’s just not that serious. Nor do we need to blanket ourselves in obscurity while washing brown lettuce and four-day-old chicken with pipe-flavored water.

These people are human and things get by them. So next time you’re not sure if that queasy feeling is the meatloaf itself or the gut feeling that you two have met before, get up, walk over and ask them, “Hey, would you eat this?”