Defeat is something I know all too well. I’ve taken many an L in life, and I plan on taking many more. The L I take mostly is the one consistently handed to me by the HHS cafeteria workers in the form of a delicious, starchy treat: the baked potato.  I’m not here to write any baked potato history for you, because you’re probably all too familiar with it. Served commonly with sour cream, butter, cheese, bacon bits, or all of the above in “loaded” form, baked potatoes are an American favorite and one of the most fantastic ways to eat the much-loved spud. While I do adore the taste of the baked potato, I am faced with an issue: I have no idea how to eat it. I see people slice the top of the potato once and turn it into a delicious mash of all their desired toppings, but I just can’t do this. I destroy the potato. The skin falls apart, bits of potato fly everywhere, and I am left completely unsatisfied. When we make baked potatoes at home, I have to ask my stepmom to make my potato for me like a peasant. It really hurts my heart. Dr. Ingle commonly watches me struggle to eat my baked potato during lunch and sympathizes greatly for my starch eating endeavor. “I try not to talk too much while Connor assembles his potato. Distractions can be disastrous during this ritual, which resembles nothing less than a Japanese tea ceremony,” said Ingle. Anyone who knows how to properly assemble a baked potato, please consult me and teach me your ways. God knows I need it.