Ask any Cornell student their favorite, secluded spot on campus and they’ll take no longer than a couple of seconds coming up with an answer. When I arrived on campus, I was confronted with the unexpected yet pleasant reality that I would run into people I knew nearly everywhere I went. This was great for social life, but sitting down in Olin Library’s Libe Café to get some work done has never yielded more than two minutes of concentration. It’s guaranteed that at least two fellow Daily Sun staffers or editors (Sunnies) will be seated nearby; in the blink of an eye, all of us will be talking and none of us will be working. This can be a problem, and that’s where the niche comes in.
My sophomore year, I discovered the perfect spot. Located in the basement of Warren Hall, conveniently two doors down from my advisor’s office, the Alfalfa Room was one of the few cafés on campus where there was always an available seat — a far cry from the hustle and bustle of Libe Cafe. I could escape to this consistently overheated corner of campus to eat, drink, and be merry studious. The staff there was always friendly and the room, while modernized to a degree, still had an old poster in the wall showing the Ag Quad from above — about 50 years ago.
Returning to my niche once classes started up again this semester, I was shocked to encounter locked doors, and through those doors was not a vibrant cafe but a new storage area for excess office furniture. While I’m sure the Alfalfa Room’s closing has to do with university-wide budget cuts and upcoming plans to renovate Warren Hall, I felt lost. I’m still feeling out new spots on campus, but the one that felt like home is now relegated to the history books — if there are history books about obscure Cornell Dining facilities, that is.