The Rat Pack says it all starts with food -- a hungering desire for a HUB lunch -- salads, Fast Break burgers, M & M cookies or the famous ranch fries.

Soon the diner is compelled to linger in the eateries after the meal is eaten. The feeling overtakes the urge to run with breakneck speed to that mandatory attendance class. Before long, the soul purpose of waking up each morning is to spend a few hours socializing in the HUB.

The Rat Pack -- six students who are self-proclaimed HUB Rats -- describe this syndrome with an air of experience and great dignity. These men, who claim the HUB as their home away from home, say it upsets them when other students accuse them of HUB-hanging and watching beautiful University women.

Because there is a deeper meaning behind being a HUB Rat, Pack members say previously established friendships have grown stronger due to the HUB-idity, -- one which is not evident to the casual HUB goer.

"Home of the University's Best -- that's what H-U-B stands for," said Rat Pack member Phil Angelo (junior-aerospace engineering) arrogantly. "But being a HUB Rat is an intangible. It's an air about you, and one day you just wake up and know that you're a HUB Rat."

For other members of the group, defining what it takes to be a HUB Rat can be as easy as one, two, three.

Robert Mori (junior-liberal arts) says, "Rule Number One: You must never concentrate on a conversation -- you always need to keep scoping for people and someone you know. Rule Two: Never sit alone -- but, if you have no choice, do one of three things: get a Collegian and pretend to read it, pull out a book and fake interest in it, or three, walk around the HUB for awhile, but never more than twice."

Mark Baker (junior-landscape architecture) explains. "When I walk around, I'll venture all the way over to the Cellar and even if I don't see anybody I know I can usually fake it by giving a nod in some direction, as if I see someone I know. Image is so important when you're a HUB Rat."

The third rule helps when a Rat forgets someone's name, Baker says. ". . . When someone you don't know . . . walks over to your table, say under your breath to whoever is sitting next to you, 'Introduce yourself.' "

This rule tricks the stranger into stating his or her name without embarrassment to the HUB Rat, Baker claims. "Tact is key here. HUB Rats are a tactful people."

A student seeking Ratdom must evolve through some stages before becoming a full-fledged HUB Rat.

First, the "HUB Rat wanna-be" stage entails a period in which students go to the HUB everyday, but strictly for lunch, and spend no time socializing after a meal.

Kent Perry (junior-real estate) is considered a member of the Rat Pack simply because the other members of the group feel confident with his progression toward "Hub-Rat-edness." He is performing some of the "pledge duties" required to reach the neophyte stage.

Wanna-be's endure many lonely HUB hours, never knowing as many people as a Rat, and may spend much time sitting and reading textbooks or newspapers. A wanna-be usually will have to re-read the daily newspaper several times before a familiar face passes by.

After completing pledge duties, the potential Rat becomes a neophyte. During this stage, the Rat-to-be feels compelled to spend quality HUB time daily. Like a fungus, this compulsion to "HUB it" for a few hours every day seems to grow uncontrollably, subsuming every urge to go to class. Shortly afterward, the transformation is complete -- a HUB Rat is born.

Amazingly enough, the Pack claims there are no HUB Rat-ettes.

Members say many female students make it through the preliminary phases, but then never move on to Ratdom. The reason? Soap operas, lack of time and non-dedication, say the Rats.

"I spend on average about three hours a day here, and I could sit here forever," Baker says, waving to a woman who walks in, his eyes scanning the Fast Break area.

"Yeah, I think if I ever get to have dinner with Bryce, I'd want it to be right here in this section of the HUB," Kent Perry (junior-real estate) adds from his seated position in the Greenhouse section of the HUB Eateries. "But JoePa -- JoePa I'd take to the Founder's Room."

"Kent's really just a wanna-be, if he were a true Rat he'd want to take JoePa to the Cellar for a Joegie," Mori explains.

"One thing you absolutely cannot be afraid to do is sit down at a table full of ten people when you know only one person there," Baker asserts, his finger wagging at a large table full of women. "Bob sat down today with a bunch of girls over there he didn't even know," Baker says matter-of-factly.

"Yep. I met ten new girls today. It's a beautiful thing, the HUB," Mori says smiling, an eyebrow raised and nodding to a now familiar face at the women's table across the room.

Al Jones (senior-secondary education), another Pack member, "scopes" for a moment and affirms the HUB is the best place to see people and socialize.

"Hey," Baker laughs, "That's a good point too. We're here to see and be seen."

The Rat Pack, which readily admits to not having any female members, denies their membership is strictly for fame and easy accessibility to college women. The HUB itself, the Rats say, is a sexually divided place.

"The area right near the Greenhouse is usually full of sorority girls. The area near Fast Break is for people who need to eat and run. When I'm not feeling like scoping for people I go over there. And the area in Food for Thought is where you go to do serious scoping -- you usually see a lot of guys up there," Mori explains with an air of certainty.

The Rat Pack, originators of this HUB groupie system, seems to agree on one goal -- remember everyone's name.

So if HUB Rat symptoms appear -- say, enticed by the cream of broccoli soup or Joegies -- and if any casual HUB-bie, wanna-be or neophyte needs help in any of the various areas, Baker suggests:

"Come visit us. Our HUB hours are usually 11 to 2 daily."