By Tara Conry
For many University students, nothing short of a map would direct them to the Rathskeler. Located in the basement of the Student Center, the Rathskeller serves as a meeting and eating place for members of sororities and fraternities; however, for students excluded from these groups, the question of what lies beyond the double doors leading into the Rathskeller resembles a sort of urban legend.
Stepping inside the room, the black and white tiled floor suggests the appearance of a 50s-style kitchen rather than a college dining hall. Booths line the border of the room, displaying the respective insignia of each sorority and fraternity. Folding tables haplessly placed near the booths convey an attempt to accommodate those members that are not privy to the booth seats.
By 3 p.m., “the Rat” is virtually deserted, aside from a few students sitting in a corner booth clad in their signature black sorority and fraternity jackets. Half-empty cups, dirty dishes, torn food packages and half-eaten sandwiches are spread across some of the tables, barely displaying the graffiti covering their surfaces.
In a display of clumsiness, my bag knocks over a large cup of coffee, which flows across and trickles on to the floor. My impulse is to clean up my mess, but the small group of black jackets barely flinches and assures me “don’t worry someone else will clean it up.”
As the thought sets in that I could easily become accustomed to life in the “Rat,” a cloud of smoke blows across my face as one of the few occupants of the room enjoys a cigarette. Throughout the rest of the dining halls on campus smoking is prohibited, but in the “Rat” it appears that not all the University’s rules apply.
Scanning the room, I notice there are a few tables scattered in the center that are not labeled by a sorority or fraternity. I wonder whether any non-Greeks chose the Rathskeller to satisfy their dining needs.
“A few people come in here to eat, mostly friends of Greeks, but they don’t stay very long,” said Mike Albert, a senior marketing and international business major who spoke to me after clearly noticing that I did not belong.
“They wouldn’t sit at the tables designated for members of sororities and fraternities because those seats are reserved for the people who have earned them,” Albert said.
“I am a member of a sorority,” said Kelly Knox, a senior broadcast journalism major. “But I wouldn’t sit at another sorority’s table because that would be disrespectful.”
While the Greeks I spoke with expressed their beliefs that anyone would be accepted in the Rathskeller, they did not encourage me to return with a large group of my friends. It is evident that one of the appeals of the “Rat” is it is excluded from the rest of the campus community.
Jill Muramo, a senior broadcast journalism major, encourages students to come to the Rathskellar.
“I think it’s a great way for non-Greeks to interact with Greek’s community, see that they are cool people and consider joining the Greek community,” Muramo said.
If any student wishes to respond to this invitation, take a trip downstairs to the “Rat.” You may not have a place to sit and you may be subject to a few curious looks, but if you have the courage to step inside you may find yourself being sucked into the Greek way of life or at least enjoy what I have been told is “the best steak sandwich the campus has to offer.”