How do I optimize my position in the lunch lines? – AK

This is a tricky question because the answer revolves around your current definition of morality—and how far you’re willing to stray from your principles to survive. You see, the cafeteria lunch lines at JP Stevens are a perfect example of natural selection. The weak simply do not make it out of this hell (in fact, some say the Cafeteria is actually hotter than the fiery depths of Tartarus) – but there are a few things you can do to live on.

Your first option: jump the queue. The do-gooders will argue that if one person does it, everyone will, and then it is not one but all that are left worse off. Forget them, I humbly suggest. Let them languish at the back of the line, never drawing closer to the glorious mac and cheese from the Market. 

Option two: the varied approach. Walk into the cafeteria with at least one friend, preferably multiple in tow. Station them in different lines and proceed to communicate through hand gestures as to the viability of their respective lines. Decisively select a line from here and use your friends to gain a solid position, claiming they were just saving you a spot.

Option three: bring lunch from home. The best way to optimize your placement in the lunch lines is to avoid the lines altogether. There are no lines for your locker, after all. If that is too much of a burden, you can do one better: wait until after school to eat lunch, which you can enjoy in a semi-natural state for once.

How do I ask a teacher for a rec letter? – TR & NB

Let me paint a picture of your current dilemma.

You’ve spent all year playing Minecraft in class. You haven’t raised your hand to answer questions, nor did you know the answer to questions when called upon. You’re known by your teacher as the “sleepiest student” in class (not your fault, it’s hard to stay awake after lunch). You’ve turned in half your assignments late and the other half hastily guessed based on a SparkNotes summary of the book you were assigned to read. 

Your teacher barely knows anything about you, save for… questionable details, none of which would be appropriate for a letter of recommendation. With no way out, there’s only one thing you can do: resort to bribery.

Now, there’s a certain subtlety to this. It’s not 2005 anymore, you can’t just slip a twenty into the second page of your assignment and expect your teacher will bail you out. We don’t even have paper assignments anymore! What, you expect me a student to use Zelle or something? Not happening.

No, there’s an art to it. Instead of the aforementioned method, why not covertly wave a diamond-studded watch about as you ask for a letter of recommendation? You’ve got to imply that the watch is for your teacher, now, lest she fail to see the gain from writing nice things about you.

Perhaps you’ve got parents wealthier than most oil barons? It sounds like a lot for a letter of recommendation, but handing a teacher the keys to a Tesla is another surefire way for success. What’s a little lie about your positive work ethic when compared to the vehicle of the future, right?

Out of money? Broke from buying too many treats at Snack Shack? Well, you’re flat out of luck. Unless you’re willing to just talk to your teacher and ask sincerely, better luck with grad school applications.

—Dr. Hawk

Leave your questions for Dr. Hawk in the comments section!