A Matter of Adams Justice

Dartboard readily concedes that Dartboard is a master at pissing people off. Dartboard talks too much, too loudly and too angrily. But all Dartboard wanted after finishing his economics final was some sumptuous sustenance to prepare him for his impending physics exam.

So Dartboard and his fellow budding economist arrogantly strode into the nearly-empty Adams House dining hall—only to encounter the horror that is Restricted Hours. Dartboard pleaded with the card-checker to grant Dartboard and Friend passage into the kitchen. “The dining hall is practically empty!” Dartboard whined. Dartboard was rebuffed.

Although Dartboard—having taken his economics exam—purports to understand that the Social Planner must impose regulation when everyone has every incentive to storm Adams for lunch, Dartboard also knows that rules (just like clichés) are made to be manipulated. So when, just as Dartboard and Friend prepared to abandon their quest and retreat to the distant Quincy House, two of Dartboard and Friend’s friends—real live Adams residents—came to the rescue, Dartboard thought he had the answer. “We’re their guests!” Dartboard exclaimed.

Whatever its merits, or lack thereof, the Restricted Hours rule says that each Adams resident is allowed to bring one guest to every meal. So when Dartboard and Friend’s friends agreed to accept Dartboard and Friend as guests, they should have been allowed to eat. Dartboard does not believe that University officials—card-checkers included—should abuse their authority by denying food to slightly obnoxious would-be diners.

But that afternoon in Adams, Dartboard did not get Dartboard’s way. Dartboard was told, “You were rude. You can’t eat.” Dartboard ate at Quincy.

—JOSHUA D. GOTTLIEB