It’s happened to all of us during freshman year. You’re hungry. You’re tired. You don’t want to walk all the way to Zaya’s, and Cox is already closed. So you text your roommate and your friends from your floor, but they’ve all already eaten. The friend you sat next to in PACE, maybe he’d like to eat? He isn’t answering his phone. Desperate, you Facebook message that girl you haven’t seen in weeks from your OL group and plead that now is the perfect time to “catch up” over dinner. But she’s still at crew practice. You have nowhere else to turn. There’s no other choice. You have to do it: the Solo DUC Run.

I was still in week one of freshman year when I executed my first Solo DUC Run. I thought it would be a good idea to work out at the WoodPEC at night so there would be less awkward eye contact when waiting for an elliptical. Then, I planned on getting a bite to eat with some friends and heading back to my dorm. It seemed like a perfect plan. Until it all fell apart. Now, this was back in the (g)olden days when the DUC closed at 8 p.m. and reopened from 10 p.m. – 12 p.m for “late night.” It was 10:30 p.m. and as I gracelessly dismounted from the elliptical, I sent out the typical “DUC it?” text.

But instead of “Be there in five,” Friend 1 told me she had decided to eat earlier. Friend 2 was still in the library and didn’t have time to come all the way to the DUC. I froze. It was time for some major decision making.

Zaya’s and Domino’s were out of the picture: didn’t want to walk and didn’t want to wait. Chipotle was closed and I didn’t feel like waiting an hour for anything delivery. I exited the WoodPEC in low spirits. But as I looked up, I saw the lights of the DUC shining in my eyes and felt my Emory Card with its unlimited swipes burning in my pocket. In that instant, I knew what I had to do.

I headed towards the DUC filled with dread. The mission was simple, yet dangerous. Swipe in, eat up, and get out. The catch was completing the meal without being seen by anyone I knew well enough to wave hello to but not well enough to sit with. I walked up the endless spiral stairs and swiped my card. I grabbed two slices of pizza and a cup of Coke. I made my way to a table, eyes down. I sat. And I ate, keeping in an alert position and carefully checking my Facebook news feed to look busy. In less than 10 minutes, I was finished, and I took my trash and threw it away. I walked down the stairs and made my way to the door. Finally, I stepped into the fresh night air, breathing easily for the first time since I’d entered the building.

I’m going to admit it. Going to the DUC that first time by myself was horrifying. Every time someone walked past my table, I envisioned their judging eyes assessing my unintentional solitude. When someone laughed at a nearby table, I thought the hilarity was addressed towards me and my comical lack of friends. I wanted to tell everyone that I had friends, and was choosing to sit alone. It wasn’t my fault. It all came down to bad scheduling.

But lonely freshman, this you must know: no one cares if you DUC it solo. It is an infinitely smaller deal than you think it is. No one cares. No one is judging you. For every three full tables at the DUC there is one solo table (not an official Emory statistic).

By the end of my freshman year, I loved to DUC it solo. If anything, it’s easier for your schedule. It’s perfect for that weekend when you can’t be away from your laptop and your newest Netflix binge show. Have an exam after lunch? DUCing solo will give you more study time and less time listening to your friends complain about their food. Freshman year is about learning to live on your own, and sometimes that means eating alone. If you have to go on a solo DUC run, embrace it. It won’t be every day that you get that much time to yourself with nothing else to do but eat.

+ posts

The Emory Wheel was founded in 1919 and is currently the only independent, student-run newspaper of Emory University. The Wheel publishes weekly on Wednesdays during the academic year, except during University holidays and scheduled publication intermissions.

The Wheel is financially and editorially independent from the University. All of its content is generated by the Wheel’s more than 100 student staff members and contributing writers, and its printing costs are covered by profits from self-generated advertising sales.