I stand eagerly in front of a toaster in the dining hall, excitedly mulling over my choices for bagel. ‘What’s it going to be today, Kiel? Raisin? Plain? One half of each?’

Free will never tasted so great.

As I finally make my decision, I throw the bagel into the toaster and begin the waiting process. Suddenly, a man comes out of nowhere and grabs me. He wears a Yankee cap, tilted sideways of course. He shakes me violently.

‘You don’t even know what a good bagel is until you’ve had a New York bagel!’

Before I even have the chance to consider the words that were just screamed at me, the man is gone, blending in with other Boston University students-a mass of displaced New Yorkers-perfectly. It’s almost as if he isn’t real.

I think about the man’s rant for a minute before finally deciding that if it’s true what he has told me about the New York bagel, then maybe I shouldn’t eat anything else in its place. I walk away from the toaster, leaving that crappy Boston bagel alone to rot.

Or at least to be eaten by somebody with more sense and will power.

I think that without a doubt the saddest thing about the BU community is all the people from the Tri-State area who were forced to come to my lowly city, a city that isn’t even worthy of their presence. After all, our bagels are inferior.

Sure, we never said they were better, but New Yorkers will be sure to tell us they aren’t.

BU students from New York already have it tough here without the bagel issue. For one thing, they feel they need to root for their hometown teams in the closet because of the public lashing they’ll face if it’s discovered they root for a New York sports team.

How else would you explain why all the Giants fans on campus didn’t feel confident wearing team paraphernalia before they won the Super Bowl back in February? Before that, you might have seen a shirt here or there, but that victory freed so many closet Giants fans to show off the pride they had for their players. Giant jerseys and hats suddenly came out of the woodwork and it became apparent that the team had plenty of supporters on our campus.

Or at least when they win they do.

In general, like these New Yorkers will have told you many times before, Boston is second-rate to the East Cost metropolis down Interstate 95. This fact applies to professional sports teams that have nothing to do with the social demographic of the city as well as with bagels.

While this absolute truth makes no sense to me and stands in direct contradiction to the fact that they chose to come here, any New Yorker will tell you my rationalizing skills are naturally depreciated because I come from Boston.

So what do I know?

Personally, I feel awful for the New Yorkers trapped here, especially when it comes to this abysmal bagel situation. These people have to watch us ignorant Bostonians sitting in our coffee shops, eating our bagels without a care in the world. Think of how painful this is for them, knowing that somewhere else in the world, in their opinion, there are bagels better than the garbage we consume here.

Luckily, they tell me every chance they have that a bagel is nothing unless it comes from New York. It doesn’t even have to be on topic. They’ll bring it up whenever they can.

‘I enjoyed the lead character’s lightness in the wake of her unwanted pregnancy in ‘Juno!”

‘It doesn’t matter! She’s probably never even had a New York bagel!’

He’s probably right, you know.

I want everyone to know that I’ve written a letter to New York Mayor Bloomberg. I’ve asked him to open up universities in the city that will give the displaced New Yorkers a proper home and allow them to learn in a worthy, non-foreign environment.

I’ve proposed simple names for these schools, such as Manhattan College or New York University. You know-just standard places of post-secondary education so everyone doesn’t get stuck in Boston.

Bottom line: This has to end. New Yorkers have suffered enough in Boston. In ancient Judaism, they had the Diaspora when Jews moved away from Jerusalem. In today’s world, thousands of college students who associate themselves with New York City were forced to come to BU, clearly against their own desires.

If we provide New Yorkers with their own university in their superior city, everything will be as it should. The better people will get to eat the better bagels. Lifelong Bostonians may be stuck here with our sub-par bread-like breakfast item, but at least that’s the natural order of things.

There, I think I’ve put this matter to bed. Maybe now I can finally eat that bagel I’ve been craving since the start of this column. I can’t wait to smother it in cream cheese.

‘You don’t even know cream cheese unless you’ve had Philadelphia cream cheese!’

Oh, BU. What am I going to do with you?