Fluorescent lighting is unforgiving in any sense, especially when there are several students leaning against the walls, waiting for their amazon packages. Impatiently. The smell of packing tape and cardboard boxes are familiar, but still disliked, although it goes well with the blank white walls. It’s awkward and for no good reason, hotter than any other room on campus.

Chewing gum, the sound of keys swaying back and forth, and the occasional friend standing with you, giggling as you wait for your name to be called. Without the giggling, it’s easier to hear the quaint buzzing noise that floods students ears. When not calling names and handing packages to half thrilled students, the woman at the front desk can be found outside smoking a cigarette in any weather condition. The small and yet effective mailroom reminds me of how foreigners might picture an American DMV.

When leaving the mailroom with one more thing you needed, or at least one thing you thought you needed, can make an okay day – better. There is a mutual understanding that the level of curiosity dramatically increases once you step foot in the mail room. The second a package is brought up from the uncharted abyss of deliveries from the back, eyes are on you and your delivery. 

Finding out where someone fuels their shopping addiction somehow satisfies that intrusive curiosity we all undoubtedly have. There is a hidden beauty about the mailroom, for a second we get a glimpse into our classmates’ lives that we otherwise wouldn’t get.