For the price of a pint of beer, you can now walk over to Campustown and pick up your Geography 100, Accounting 215, Biology 312 Stat 101 or Communication Studies 103 notes.

You just wander over to 111 Lynn Ave., hand the nice people at Notes, the newest campus service, a couple bucks and they give you a class worth of instructor comments. If you really procrastinate, they’ll give you an entire semester’s worth, for a price.

It’s an invaluable student-help service, the Notes people say. Maybe. Maybe not.

Regardless, it’s an intriguing concept, one that points to a weird trend of paying for stuff and services that our parents and grandparents thought were wholly individual responsibilities, like taking class notes.

It makes me wonder what the future has in store. What can we expect by way of student-targeted commodities in five, 10, 15, 20 years or beyond? What strange new service-oriented business will pop up in Campustown next? I’ve got a few suggestions. Some are better than others:

* By way of personal hygiene. I was sitting in my Biology class the other day (Yes, I went to class), and something strange hit my nostrils. It was stink, bad stink. That meant one of two things: either something nasty was going on outside, or we’ve got a problem.

The windows were shut.

Thus, a problem. I had been under the impression that no matter how busy students got, making time to shower was a foregone conclusion. Guess I was wrong.

But here lies the possibility for capitalism: A “Scrub and Go” service for students. We’ll call it a people wash. Students can line up single file someplace in Campustown for a quick bath. We’ll hose ’em down with high-pressure soap, give ’em a quick warm-water rinse, send ’em through a turbo dry and ship ’em off to class, leaving time, of course, to stop by and pick up some notes.

* By way of social interaction. Have you ever sat at a Campustown bar — or any place where lots of students gather — and noticed how inept so many of us are at interacting with the other gender?

I actually heard this line a few weeks back (no kidding): “Hey, I’ve been working on my chest hair. What do you think?”

I’m not quite sure what this Italian stallion meant by that comment. How exactly do you “work on” chest hair? Do you shave arm or leg hair and somehow attach it to your chest? I haven’t a clue.

At any rate, I think my hairy friend’s blatant stupidity underscores the need for a kind of Campustown Charm School. It could be a place where guys could work on their pick-up lines under the tutelage of seasoned experts. And women could work on their rejection lines with the same supervision.

The charm school may just wipe out male one-liners like: “Wanna see my new Barney sheets?” or “Is that a beer in your hand? Funny, I’ve got one just like it.” or “Howz about you and me get some Subway?” or, my personal favorite, “So, you wanna mash or what?”

Hopefully we can eliminate tired female response, too. Those include (But, as any guy can tell you, certainly aren’t limited to): “I’d kiss you, but I just washed my hair.” or “You’ve got a booger.” or “I’m so out of your league.” or “I’m still in high school.” or “Call me after puberty hits.”

* By way of eating habits. Whatever happened to table manners? You know, those things you just don’t do while eating? You don’t, for example “work on” a booger. You don’t, for example, scratch in low places.

You do, for example, shut your mouth when you chew. I had a date a few years back that looked pretty promising until we got to dinner. She ordered. I ordered. She chewed. I cringed.

It was a combination of a smacking and a sucking noise. Words just can’t do it justice. Trust me, it was not pleasant. But again, here’s a golden opportunity for a new business. We could either make it an eating training program, or if we’re really adventurous, work on product development.

A modified clothes pin might work, as would a piercing job. Oh, here’s a great idea: It could be like a Franklin Planner seminar where you have to leave your lips pierced together for two weeks, only unbuttoning to shovel food in. This may sound extreme, but think about how many second dates it will prompt. Had my date closed her mouth, I might have called back. And I’d be willing to bet the same smacking/sucking noise has ended more than just my potential relationship before it started.

And these are just a few. I had plenty more. Some were pretty crass. But if you’ve got a new business idea, drop me a letter. I’ll compile them (if there’s enough) and give you the low-down. Maybe we could start our own future business bureau. The possibilities are literally endless.

Just remember that booger bit was mine.

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Chris Miller is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Marshalltown. He is editor in chief of the Daily.