Compass Tables:
Perhaps the very epicenter of the SABS movement, the Compass tables have in recent semesters become less popular, which, in the illogical physics of postmodern youth culture, makes them much more popular. They’re always crowded enough to look crowded, but never fear — there’s usually a chair somewhere between the sorority lunches and misplaced engineers. Bonus points if you manage to not trip over the anti–theft chair/table cords on the way out.
The Compass tables’ cool European younger brother is the Castle patio. Chilling all cool–like at the southern tip of Locust Walk, they offer keen SABSers the opportunity to “oh hey didn’t see you there!” pretty much everyone at Penn. There’s no avoiding that intersection, and that means there’s no avoiding you. Bring a salad, cigarette or piece of classical French lit to make a day of it, and let the Castle’s aura make you that much cooler.
College Green:
This is a tough one. If you can pull off the College Green SABS, you’re a pro. If not, all you’ll be left with is grass stains and ants in your backpack. Factors to consider: posture (how to lounge without really looking like you’re trying to lounge), grass texture (too patchy makes you look poor, too thick may result in wet–ass syndrome) and proximity to the Walk (too close makes you look desperate, too far makes you look irrelevant). Master the College Green SABS, and you can do anything.
The fake–studying Mecca of life at Penn, the Van Pelt basement is an excellent choice for those SABSers looking to make a social statement without the guilt of getting nothing done. Being surrounded by other fake–studiers and the occasional lost A–student should apply just enough crowd pressure to encourage you to read a chapter, or page, or word, or to even take out a book, or to just look blankly at your backpack for a couple minutes. Omg, is that Jessica? Jessica! Over here!
