CAVAwkward

When most Columbia students hear the word “CAVA,” they immediately conjure up images of drunken freshman passing out in Carman. But not every call to CAVA is for a late night rescue! Sometimes, people at Columbia actually fuck up (while sober) and need some legit help. Here’s a brainstorm of some obscure injuries that might call for CAVA (not that I’ve experienced any of these…)

Falling down the stairs.

This one is real, y’all. One day you’re racing down the steep, uneven steps of your brownstone on your way to your 2:40 and then BAM! You trip and fall on your ass, bouncing thud thud thud down the stairs. Before you know it, you’re being hauled onto a stretcher and sent away to St. Luke’s where you’ll get an xray of your ass. It’ll be super painful and super embarrassing, but at least you avoided the ambulance fee if you would have just called 911.

Tripping on Low Plaza.

Ahh, another beautiful day at Columbia! It’s the late afternoon and students are crowding Low Steps enjoying the sunshine. From a distance you hear Bodak Yellow playing from someone’s speakers, and when you look toward Alma, your friends wave you over. As you skip in excitement to join in on the fun, all of a sudden SPLAT! You’re on the ground. Twisted ankle. Bruised knees. Everybody stops and stares (even that fucking feet-bottle-throwing guy). A few minutes later and you see that familiar CAVA truck come scuttling down College Walk to your rescue. Note to self: walk slower next time.

Falling off the lion statue outside Havemeyer. 

Okay, okay, maybe you were drunk for this one. But that wasn’t the reason why you had to call CAVA. You called CAVA because amidst your impersonation of Simba from Lion King atop that bronze mane, you slipped and fall off, bam! on the ground. Shit, the more that I think about it, this one would actually really hurt. Somebody fucking call CAVA! You probably broke your arm!

Stabbing yourself with a screwdriver while assembling IKEA furniture.

You just got back from your day trip to Brooklyn where you treated yo’ self at IKEA. You’re so excited to put together your fancy little rolling bar cart that you just can’t help yourself! But, wait… how tf are you supposed to do this exactly? What goes where how? Shit, this is confusing. Whatever, it’s fine, maybe if you just… fuck! You’ve stabbed your hand with the tiny screwdriver and oh mY GOD IT WENT COMPLETELY THROUGH YOUR HAND AND THERE’S BLOOD EVERYWHERE. JESUS CHRIST SOMEONE CALL CAVA.

Dropping your econ textbook on your foot.

So maybe this one isn’t quite CAVA-worthy. But you never know! No one here at Bwog knows how anatomy works, so when it comes to injuries, always better to be safe than sorry. Maybe you broke something. Maybe your toe fell off. Maybe you’re totally fine and you’re just being a fucking crybaby. Bottom line: you sold your soul to econ, anyways. Bout time you get what you deserve. Call CAVA. Or don’t.