I have never experienced a more ridiculous sensation than purchasing a Sausage, Egg & Cheese sandwich from Gilman Hall’s cafe. For some reason, when I tread the halls of the clock tower, my patience always wears thin. Maybe it's the impossibly long cafe line that never fails to make me late to class or the daily trek to the first floor bathroom, but time passes by at a pace reflective of my train of thought during a Genetics exam. Sometimes, I have to question if the $9 Sausage, Egg & Cheese is worth what I endure.
And unfortunately, it is.
The first time I bit into the concoction of breaded goodness, I felt myself levitating. Never before had I tasted such perfectly processed pork. Never before had I felt such a comical validation of my struggles. The rubbery egg, the slightly-too-hard bun, the melted cheese that somehow binds it all together — it’s an experience, not a meal. A ritual, not a purchase.
And yet, every time I stand in that line, I begin to think about thinking. How strange is it that our minds spiral into layers of self-awareness over something as trivial as a breakfast sandwich? I question whether my impatience is a product of the wait itself or of my own awareness of the wait. I find myself caught in a loop: Why do I think the way I do? Why do I analyze every minor inconvenience, every fleeting moment of pleasure, every decision I’ve already made? Why do I do this to myself? Why do I, fully aware of the inconvenience, willingly subject myself to the wait, the price and the inevitable post-sandwich regret when I realize my balance of dining dollars?
It’s absurd, really — the way I am always trying to intellectualize the most mundane parts of life. But maybe that’s just part of being a student at a place that demands constant questioning. Maybe the real reason I keep coming back for this sandwich isn’t just habit or hunger. Maybe it’s because the Sausage, Egg & Cheese isn’t just about sustenance; it’s about consistency. Maybe it’s because, in some odd way, it forces me to pause, notice and reflect on the ridiculous ways we make sense of our lives. In a world of shifting deadlines, unpredictable exams and existential crises over being pre-med, this sandwich remains the one constant.
It becomes a process, a testament of my favorite experiences. Dashing to the cafe after an early morning at the medical campus, I don’t think about SN1 and SN2 reactions. When I race to Hodson Hall — Sausage, Egg & Cheese in hand — I instead think about the stories I experience when I talk to patients. I think about existential items grander than myself and how my problems can be as trivial as that sandwich. As I board the JHMI shuttle after feeling like I failed my Calculus quiz, I don’t ponder over my marks. I think about the warmth of the bread in my hands, the small comfort it provides in a day otherwise filled with uncertainty and ever-flowing odds. The Sausage, Egg & Cheese becomes more than just a breakfast item: It’s a marker of time, a reminder that no matter how chaotic life gets, some things remain unchanged.
It’s there after late nights in the MSE Annex when I question why I ever thought majoring in Molecular and Cellular Biology was a good idea. It’s there after exhausting lab meetings, when I need a reason to keep going, a small indulgence to make the day feel a little less grueling. It’s there in moments of triumph, too — after an exam that went surprisingly well, or on a morning when I actually got a full night’s sleep.
There’s something oddly comforting about the predictability of it all. I know that no matter how much I complain, I’ll be back again tomorrow, standing in line and impatiently tapping my foot, already knowing that the first bite will make it all worth it. That’s the funny thing about routine. It traps us and reassures us. The Sausage, Egg & Cheese offers a rare moment of stillness. It’s a fleeting comfort, gone as soon as the last bite is taken, but for those few minutes, as I sit in the quad or rush to class with my sandwich in hand, I know exactly where I am, what I’m doing, and why I’m doing it.
So, as ridiculous as it may seem, Gilman’s Sausage, Egg & Cheese is more than just a sandwich. It’s a tradition, a constant, a strangely reliable companion in the ever-shifting landscape of college life. And no matter how long the line is, no matter how absurd the price gets, I know I’ll find myself right back in that queue tomorrow. I’ll be there, waiting for yet another bite of my overpriced ritual.
Kaylee Nguyen is a freshman from Pensacola, Fla. studying Molecular & Cellular Biology and Writing Seminars. Her column tackles how creativity connects with identity as she hopes to connect with others through shared experiences and the universal love for learning.
