If UF had a soul it would be the Turlington Potato
An ode to that brown rock sitting in the middle of campus
Nothing represents the University of Florida more than Turlington Plaza, specifically that enormous 30,000 year-old, root-inspired beauty we all fondly call the “Potato.” Well, except for maybe Ben Hill Griffin Stadium, or the Bull Gator statue or the Tebow statue (I hope you’re all Tebowing respectfully at this very moment).
Otherwise, ranking in at seventh place for UF’s most distinctive feature is definitely the Potato.
The fear
First of all, there’s a lot going on in Turlington. It’s a terrifying place to be. Why? People can be found insisting on maximizing their rights to free speech on a daily basis (I’m talking to you, preachers condemning us to hell) and cyclists think the students are human-shaped cones in their personal obstacle course. Turlington Hall looms over us all, waiting to suck kids into the basement for those Anthropology office hours and making you wonder if you should just drop that minor. Before you can escape the free speech zone to even get to your lab, don’t forget to tell Student Government that you voted and to nod your head in peace to a preacher and his teenage bride in a denim maxi skirt. But, please, don’t be afraid. You are not alone. There is some comfort to be found in like-minded people like yourself whose earphones and phone screens serve as shields against petitioners.
The meet-ups
The Potato is the where to go when you want to carry out a miserable transaction involving trading this semester’s Spanish textbook for the Smokin’ Notes for Man’s Food and a coupon to Bento. The starchy statue witnesses regular deals found on the Free & For Sale page or UF Textbook Exchange Facebook groups. The Potato is the safest public negotiation spot for selling a disturbingly sloppy, ill-fitting, Chinese-made game day outfit that you exchanged for what we college kids equate to one bottle of the finest liquor.
The waiting room
It feels like home to wait underneath the shade of the Potato for your next assembly class at Turlington L007 along with 400 other engaged listeners ready for an Astronomy 1002 lecture. If UF had a soul, it would be that brown rock sitting in the middle of campus. Everyone who has been on campus for longer than the duration of their first campus tour knows about the Potato. So, when you’re ready to go to Krishna with your vegetarian-only-when-it-tastes-good college buddies, but you still have to wait five minutes for their class to let out, they’ll know where to meet you.
The legend
Even freshmen know about the Potato. That’s saying a lot because they can’t figure out the location of anything other than the dining halls, where to score free stuffed animals from RUB events, Mid and the Chick-fil-A closest to their dorm. The Potato may soon become the newest addition to cardinal directions: north, east, south, west, and potato. We all know where it is, we all need it and it’ll continue to be at UF longer than any super-super-senior could ever be.