David Helfand does not drink coffee for three reasons.

On April 27, 2017, not long before of the 30th anniversary of Take Back the Night, the streets of Morningside Heights were silent.

Last Easter weekend, when families came into town and everyone seemed to be out at brunch, I strolled down to the Dunkin’ Donuts on 100th and Broadway for an iced coffee, passing three Starbucks on the way. I always order my iced coffees with a coconut flavor shot because it tastes a bit like sunscreen, the spray kind that also moisturizes. I brought the coffee back to campus and kept the cup for a week after, washing it out so that I could drink water from it...

I didn’t even know they were coming. Like the one freak sunny day in February, I stumbled into them by accident, completely unaware that other people had been anticipating them for weeks. I was sprawled in an armchair on the fifth floor of Wallach on a chilly Friday night, taking a study break with some friends, and turned my head fractionally to glimpse whatever everyone was cooing over on the cracked lounge TV. The sight of the eight-pack abdominal muscles of Pita Taufatofua hit me like a brick wall. They rippled and glistened in the subzero weather. A chorus of appreciative (and objectifying) murmurs went up from the people around me as the Tongan athlete swooped the opening ceremony flag from left to right...