The Mack Foyer

28 September 2011Anna B

There is a strange phenomenon which occurs in certain places on earth. It is almost imperceptible at times, and can be often mistaken for simple laziness or exhaustion. But, if you observe carefully, concentrate, and pay attention, you will notice there are some places that are, literally, almost impossible to leave.

One of these places – they must crop up due to some pseudo-geological feature deep underground, congestion in the flow of energy, or something of the sort – is the Mackenzie House foyer. With the simple intention of sitting down to pull off your shoes, or sitting down to wait for the one slow person to put their shoes on, a strange pull is experienced, some sort of undefined magnetism, a type of hypnotic gravity that impedes movement. You find that shoes never reach their appropriate state of put-oned-ness, couch cushions begin to slide horizontally across the seat as it juts out over the edge, and the minute hand has passed over half the numbers on the clock before you realize you have been slowly slipping off the couch and onto the floor for the past half hour.

Anyone who has experienced this veritable black hole of a room, this land of the lotophagi, whether knowingly or completely innocent of the knowledge, will agree that hours can be, not quite wasted, but definitely spent with alarming ease on the green corduroy couches. Mack girls inadvertently strand themselves on these unassuming seats after breakfast or sports, and sometimes only bring themselves to leave as the sound of the bell cuts through the bubble of suspended time which encases them. Yet morning fatigue or the varying levels of exhaustion after sports do not wholly account for the lackadaisical tendency of the slouchers who are planted firmly against the back of the couch.

Inquisitive mind asks – why? What is the mysterious pull this room exacts? Is it some form of enhanced gravitational force, only found within the four walls of the foyer? Step in through the door and accelerate into some sort of parabolic arc aimed towards the nearest horizontal object? To understand this inexplicable force, it must be deconstructed and examined.

Perhaps it is the view that accompanies the slow sinking of your body into the couch cushions that keeps people from leaving. Out past the steps of Mack House, people walk to and from Crooks hall, congregate at the fork between Rogers House and Mack, and begin the walk uptown. A seat in the foyer is the perfect vantage point for unobtrusive observation – creeping. Perhaps it is the visitors – those who have never been seen crossing the threshold – as well as those who frequent Mack, who contribute to the inexplicable attraction of the foyer. Perhaps it is the imperceptible distraction of reading the whiteboard ten times without realizing, or the hypnotic practice of saying “Hello!” to every single person who walks through the door, or the thought of the two flights of stairs that stand in between the foyer and the dorm rooms (they can be rather daunting).

Perhaps it is the conversation, the stories that are brought to the surface by the strange gravity of the room, that attracts people and keep them orbiting around the green sofas, low tables, and piles of shoes that never seem to find the feet to fill them.

One thing must be understood, however. It is not a malicious force – on the contrary, it is far from it. Some of the best evenings in Mack end in the foyer, squeezing five into the loveseat, three onto the armchair, even some on the carpet. And every year it seems, one or two people who have come to appreciate the odd affect of this room become its unofficial guardians (however, the elusive duty of the Foyer Prefect has yet to be formed – a job which mostly consists of sitting on the farthest couch in and saying hi to everyone who walks past).

One thing is for certain though – the foyer isn’t just a room, nor is it quite a black hole. It is a hybrid of the two, a special rectangular area of the world where the space-time continuum has the power to warp and stretch, bend and confuse the Newtonian sensibilities of those who are paying attention. It is a unique place, a remarkable place, and although positioned at the entrance, it is the center of the Mack House universe.

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