As Business School Renovation Wraps Up: Students Realize it's Actually a Giant PJ's

By Fox Kavanaugh

A long year of construction pays off

For many business school students, the past semester has been less than ideal. While their primary school building has been undergoing construction, they have been confined to the gloomy catacombs of the Howard Tilton library. As such, when the Tulane administration announced the grand unveiling of the refurbished building, a large crowd of eager students gathered outside to feast their eyes on the fruits of their patience. Unfortunately, the finished product was not quite what they were expecting.

After a year of construction, the business school has been torn down and replaced with a new PJ’s Coffee shop. Resident finance major Remington Smith was disgruntled to say the least.

“The fact that they kept this a secret and in fact blatantly lied to us about their intentions, kind of rubs me the wrong way,” Smith said. “I did hear that only business school students are allowed to use the printer, though. So I guess things aren’t all bad.”

“I just don’t understand who is drinking this much coffee,” Jabriel Kevinson, a 5th-year accounting major, said. “If you really need that extra motivation, just abuse your adderall prescription like the rest of us.”

Although some of the students affected have responded negatively, the administration has vehemently defended their decision. We spoke to Ike Mitts, a staff member who wished to keep his identity anonymous, about the controversy.

“In my line of work, sometimes I have to make choices that students don’t appreciate, even though the choice is ultimately in their best interest,” Mitts explained. “Prior to today, there was not one single PJ’s establishment in the entire stretch of McAlister between Willow and Freret. This was something we simply could not allow to continue.”

The new mega-PJ’s will offer students plenty of space to undergo caffeine-induced manic episodes while studying, with 570 tables and 2,280 seats across five floors, overlooking a thirty-foot waterfall of café-latte.

“In exchange for these necessary conveniences, the rise in tuition that we will have to implement in order to fund the construction is a small price to pay,” Mitts said. “Well, not monetarily, but relatively.”

When asked about the still-uncertain future of students taking classes in the library basement, Mitts shrugged and ended the interview.

Despite the palpable dissent on the campus over this decision, the new location does have its benefits. It will contain three microwaves rather than just one; no longer will hungry students have to wait in line to heat up their lukewarm sandwiches. Furthermore, the spice rack has expanded to include not just cinnamon and sugar, but a variety of other seasonings such as garlic powder, cumin and even Tabasco sauce.

Additionally, the computers in the new establishment will be much faster than those in the PJ’s on Willow. For comparison, while it takes an average of twelve minutes to log into a computer in the Willow PJ’s, the new computers will only take five.

With all these perks, it’s easy to see where the administration was coming from. But it’s also easy to see that the future looks bleak for the students of the business school. Well, technically the future looks bleak for the students of the library basement. And when you put it that way, things don’t seem so bad at all.

CampusLara Miloslavsky