WAITING (A LITTLE LONGER) FOR GODOT

You people on the CRIMSON and the Student Council and all those other powerful organizations are probably gloating about having Saturday parietal hours extended for an extra hour. But I wonder whether you editors and such realize exactly what it is that you've done.

Last Saturday night I had a girl in my room. The first few hours were all right. We talked about Daumier; what a grisly month January is; the trouble with Wellesley girls (they're always talking about marriage); why Europe is becoming a bore; what it is with Soc Rel; marriage; the temperature; and John Foster Dulles. At about 10:30 I sensed that she was growing listless. I got up and put on some Stravinsky. But it was no use. She was definitely beginning to lose interest. I looked at my watch; it was 11:15. I got up to turn Stravinsky over, shuffling my feet loudly as I went. When I got back, her eyes were glazed, but she had gamely propped herself up with her elbows. I decided to try to stick it out until the deadline. I mentioned Samuel Beckett. She quoted Samuel Beckett. Finally we went, but still it was awful. Copley Peale '58