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The Magpie Sings the Great Depression:
Selections from DeWitt Clinton High School's Literary Magazine, 1929-1942

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On Dunking

By David Golomb, '38

The Magpie, June 1937, v. 21, n. 2., p. 15.

Ranking along with baseball, football and boxing, dunking is one of the leading sports of the country. Indulged in by a good majority of the populace, it can not be called merely a fad or a passing fancy, but is an art. One must be quick-minded and fleet-footed. One must be very skilled. There is only one way to dunk and that is the right way. Many so-called experts may tell you differently, but the following is the correct procedure:

First walk into a cafeteria or a place called 'Joe's Eats.' Do not patronize any other type of place! This is important. Only in a cafeteria or 'Joe's Eats' can you get as dunkable coffee or as pliable crullers. As you walk in, to your right (or to your left), you will see a machine with a piece of blue pasteboard sticking out. If you pull out the pasteboard, a bell will ring and a new one appear. This is very nice to play with, but not for long for they've things called managers whom we shall come to later. At a small table you will find eating utensils and a napkin dispenser. Even though you'll probably never use them, you take the following: Six small spoons; four large spoons; nine forks; three knives; eight napkins. Thereupon you rush to the counter where you shout, "A cuppa cawfie, crim on de side, and donuds." You will be shoved your fare, coffee spilling all over the doughnuts and have your ticket grabbed and clipped. A good idea is to save the clippings for confetti.

Fight your way to a seat, spilling more coffee, and sit down hurriedly, shoving your elbow into the ribs of the lady in the red coat. She, in a huff, will call the manager and a battle of wits will ensue until you decide to apologize. By this time, your coffee will be cold and you won't have any appetite for the doughnuts which have become very limp and soggy from this inartistic overdunking, so you let the whole matter go, deciding you probably shouldn't have started it in the first place.

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The Magpie Sings the Great Depression

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