On the afternoon of March 15th at approximately 3:24 PM, a deafening shriek was heard from the salad bar in the 215 cafeteria. The distressed student (who shall remain nameless because of the sensitive nature of the investigation) ran pell-mell to the mashgiach’s office, knocking down several stacks of pretzels on her way, to report the source of the disturbance.
A stray craisin in the feta cheese.
The mashgiach reacted with appropriate alacrity to the problem, declaring a state of emergency in the caf, cordoning off the area with recycling bins, and calling security for backup.
“As soon as I heard that girl’s scream, I knew what we were dealing with,” the mashgiach reported. “I’m just happy that I could get the situation under control before it was too late.”
When the security team arrived, they further secured the area, began collecting evidence, and took several witnesses aside for questioning. The girl who had first discovered the errant craisin was in too much distress to be immediately questioned, and was brought to the Counseling Center to calm down before giving her statement.
“As soon as I got there, I knew something wasn’t right,” she later reported. “I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up on end, you know, that creepy feeling of something being out of place. And then I saw it. The flash of red in the sea of creamy white, like blood marring untouched snow. It was horrible.”
That colorful description was corroborated by other eyewitnesses on the scene, one of whom labeled the wayward craisin “offensive.”
The incident followed close on the heels of several other altercations involving alleged chickpeas gone astray, and claims of individuals using the corn spoon in the olives. None of these claims were substantiated. Claims that there was in fact a second craisin contaminating the green beans on the afternoon of the crime are being investigated.
“This is exactly the kind of incident that we are trained to handle,” explained the chief of security at Yeshiva University. “I mean, you get the occasional burglary or bomb threat, you know, the small stuff, but this is what really makes up the bulk of our intensive training.” When asked why the rogue craisin presented such a serious threat, the security chief responded with shock and outrage, and declined further comment.
One of the first responders on the scene helpfully filled in some missing details as to the seriousness of the incident. “This week it’s a craisin in the wrong place,” she explained. “Next week it’ll be men infiltrating the women’s classes, or an English major infiltrating the science labs! The whole University will be upside down by next Thursday unless we do something about it.”
Although the student body as a whole thankfully avoided any serious harm from the incident, the culprit was severely punished. After extensive investigations, the Special Security Task Force identified the miscreant, and obtained a confession.
“I only meant to have a little fun,” cried the offender.
Dean Bacon was unimpressed by this feeble excuse, and immediately expelled the student, saying, “there is no place in this fine and upstanding University for flippant salad bar delinquents!”
In the aftermath of the incident, the director of food services is planning to install large dividers between each section of the salad bar. “I always thought that having separate compartments would be enough to discourage crime,” he said. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t look like it’s enough anymore.”
Any student with further information about cafeteria contamination is urged by the security department to come forward. “We need our students to be on the lookout for any hint of vegetables gone rogue,” explained the head of the security. “As the New York State Police Department likes to say, if you see something, say something.”
If you see vegetables where they don’t belong, call 1-888-veg-safe