Before I left the suburban streets of North Brunswick to embark upon a low-paid, but LOVELY internship and live on my own in DC, my mother left me with the following words. "Before you're reduced to begging, call me." I suppose it was those words that brought this once-heated race for free food to a quiet standstill.

Here's the gist of it: I had planned to sneak into the very same lunch frequented by Ashley (and the two previous winners) at the National Press Club. Alas, my rather lenghty breakfast(s) and desire to be a good intern/actually get some work done today resulted in my missing out on the sitting down part...of a sit-down lunch.

After walking directly into the Josef Ackermann luncheon (they really need to up the security around there), I came across the event already taking place...and my competition schmoozing over what I had intended to be MY free plates. (True to its tradition of pretention, the meal featured multiple courses).

What to do? What to feel? OUTRAGE...sort of.

I focused on where to go.

As I walked out of the building and back into my own, I began to feel the pangs of hunger. A defeatist attitude enveloped me, so I decided to quit.

Saxon The Saxon (as he's affectionately known to only his closest of friends) offered to help me go hotel-hopping and see if we might stumble across any events. No such luck. And despite the inspiration provided by his company, I gave up.

I was hungry and hot and tired...and my mother's words echoed in my head. I stopped into McDonald's for a cheap lunch. In retrospect, I could have gone healthier...and cheaper, but the game was over.

I didn't take it as a loss, but a personal victory. I had reaffirmed the lesson that "Mama knows best."

After the final retreat to the office, Laura let me know there was free food in the kitchen...

Later that evening, I went to the aforementioned CAP BBQ and did in fact eat free food. I canceled my glorious plans to crash a gala for dinner, unpacked my bag full of outfit changes (business, cocktail, and casual attire), and took a shower. It was all over.  

Am I ashamed about my moment of weakness? Not so much. My loss really just ensures the finals will be quite interesting. We'll find out what happens when three outreach/conference-oriented interns are picked to stop being polite and start getting...free food?

Stay tuned.

I figure the only thing that tastes better than free food is free food smuggled from behind enemy lines. This was the strategy that got me through the morning hours.

I did a quick search of Heritage-sponsored and friendly events. Presenting "China and Latin America: An Update," a panel discussion hosted by the Hudson Institute that offered token complimentary breakfast. How did I miss that last night?!? True, it was going against my desire to be original--to eat something more than bagels, pastries, and fruit. I was out of options.

Still, it was too late to RSVP, and with the popularity of early-morning, stuffy foreign policy events, I--random D.C. intern--wasn't going to be able to just stroll in. Nicholle Manners, nondescript VIP with an editor who was supposed to RSVP on her behalf and little patience for lost confirmations and questions, however, could.

I dressed in something business-savy and made sure to keep sunglasses and an expression of thinly veiled superiority plastered on my face until the elevator ding tolled. I stepped up to the woman in the doorway who looked at me surprised before saying "Good morning" in her politest of "What are you doing here?" ways. The I-never-actually-RSVPed-tango began.

I gave her my last name, and then paused. She asked me if I RSVP'ed and I explained that my editor was supposed to have done so on my behalf as I shook my hair out and pulled my sunglasses off with aplomb. She said the room was most likely going to be filled. I responded that my editor had confirmed a week ago and looked at her expectantly. She opened the doors and let me in.

I walked slowly into the room with my head up, realizing very quickly that I was THE ONLY BLACK PERSON there. Great. Awkward. I slid up to the table where a fresh fruit salad, pastries, bagels, coffee, and fresh-squeezed orange juice (you could taste the bits of fruit) were arrayed. I ate a bagel and some fruit salad, washed it down with some orange juice, and sat down since the panel was about the begin. Technically speaking, my breakfast was done by 9:30.

So, after logging what I felt was the approrpriately polite time of listening to the disucssion, I waited for an opening in Q & A and stood up to be excused. Of course, I was blocked into the aisle and had to amble out. As I did so, however, the moderator called on me--thinking I was overly anxious to get a question out. Panic.

I took the mic and vamped. Forgive my loose quotations, but the freaking out didn't help my memory. I said something like this: "Nicholle Manners, (conveniently left out my affiliation), You mentioned the various challenges to China's rapidly growing economy and investment in Latin America. I was wondering if you could speak to some of its benefits for Americans, in light of the rarely employed Monroe Doctrine governance philosophy and our global economy."

They thought the question was really interesting, and took a while to answer it. I was forced to sit through the response. The panel ended shortly afterwards, and as I hit the door, the moderator stopped me, and introduced me to the panelists. What was I getting into? 

Then, they told me how they wanted to continue our discussion and invited me to breakfast at the Capitol Hilton down the street. Um...

I explained that I had to get back to work and couldn't sit down to a full breakfast. They insisted. The VIP tango had commenced. I explained that I had a busy day. They said you have to start the day off right.  We ended up at the hotel.

It was there that the real breakfast was served...hot breakfast. Eggs, bacon, croissants, pancakes--that sort of stuff. Having filled up on the continental, I wasn't ready to go to town. I ate some scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast before excusing myself apologetically and walking directly out of the hotel.

We never did exchange cards, and I think that's for the better.

The lesson I learned: When you tango with the enemy, it can get pretty tricky. But if you're prepared--as in you're fluent in circuitous intellectual-esque speak and appearing far more knowledgeable than you actually are and are sporting a sharp outfit and even sharper attitude, it'll work out.

The Campus Progress annual Free Food-a-Thon is underway, and frankly, it's just not that creative. Everyone crashes a conference or event to secure token continental breakfast, then we crash another for lunch and perhaps we're ballsy enough to bluff our way into a fancy gala for dinner. Not me. I refuse to be another template for the Intern's Guide to Free Food-A-Thons sure to appear any day now in the Self Help section of Barnes and Noble. Not me.  

So, I thought. What would make me stand out? Going to a not-your-average student leadership conference might help. In my internet perusals, I discovered one for grounds maintenance and another for the brotherhood of electrical workers.  

Eating more than three square meals might be a start. Finding a way not just to survive, but to live the gluttonous life for free...that's impressive.  

I set out to consider my strategy, but all my ideas for originality eventually hit a brick wall. First of all, bartering (though I still argue Aditi's performance--essentially trading talent in exchange for food--opened the doors to this) was outlawed. This of course made me wonder whether using feminine wiles to secure food was permissible. After all, we allow people to masquerade as interested participants in esoteric plenaries, so why not masquerade as someone actually interested in Tim: friendly local Starbucks barrista? Outright theft is frowned upon. Yet, it seems this contest follows a policy of theft by any other means because taking food from a pre-paid event is technically stealing--or maybe it's not if the event is buffet-style/all-you-can-eat because there's no way to determine how much food would be consumed by that measurement (though I have been reprimanded for taking food to-go at such venues since apparently there's a location-specific addenum on such signs).  I was getting caught up in the details.  

True, the CAP Intern BBQ at 3 guaranteed free food. But, for me, it wasn't about satiating my hunger. In fact, I knew I wouldn't get that hungry. It was about the chase, the search, my ego.  

I started looking through the papers to see if I couldn't infuse this contest with some Wedding Crashers mentality and dress up, savor swanky food (and wedding cake), and dance a little in the evening. However, DC's papers didn't prove helpful. This city is invitation-only-obsessed.  

I kept looking...and then I fell asleep.  

With no time left to actually plan (in the wake of extensive pre-planning) I started the day without a clue. Guess we'll see where my need to be special takes me, but I have a feeling it may drop me at the doorstep of humility. I'll be Googling throughout the day in hopes of staying in this, but as of now, I'd say I'm officially the underdog.

A native of the Garden State, I enjoy my shopping free, not only of the natural elements, but taxes. Enclosed in one of the many two, three, or four-story, air-conditioned buildings that lie within a 30-minute drive of my house, I consider walking the mall a serious endeavor. Window-shopping, food-court hopping, people-watching—I love the mall. So, for me, the D.C. series of isolated chain stores devoid of kiosks is just…unsettling.

College is a time of individual discovery—defining who you are and who you want to be after interfacing with a changing world and your roommate’s radically divergent experiences. And despite the reality that mine is sequestered in a congested city boasting an annual minimum of three months tundra, I have found a true love in barbeque.