We have come to the end of an era. Crimson Cash is dead.

It's far sadder than the end of the Nixon era (marked by tears and the whir of an airplane), the Reagan era (no more jellybeans in the White House) or the Bush era (no more incomprehensible press conferences).

The end of Crimson Cash is marked by a bowed head, a furtive look at one's worthless ID and a mournful glance at the chocolate orgasm brownies in the Loker Commons coffee house, woefully out of reach.

But the worst part comes in the days leading up to the wasteland-- those days when your balance is ever-dwindling and your purchases ever more careful. In case you forgot or didn't realize it, the blinking green display reminds you: "BALANCE UNDER 25 DOLLARS." As if we didn't know. As if it didn't gnaw at us with each passing day. As if we hadn't acknowledged that, in an oh-so-clever marketing move, Harvard Dining Services has trapped us.

Instead of craving Au Bon Pain chocolate croissants, we now desire petit fours from the coffee shop. Instead of contenting ourselves with a slice of Tommy's, we seek out greener, Mexican pastures. Loker Commons has raised our standards.

So we pace the sidewalks in front of Loker Commons, sometimes even crossing the threshold, sometimes even claiming a booth for our own. But it is always as outsiders, never again to join the chosen ones; it may not show, yet it weighs heavy on our hearts (and stomachs).