Hi 92 / Lo 73
|Volume 70, Issue 161,
Thursday, August 4, 2005
Pickings slim on summer campus menu
It was a bright and sunny day. The freshly cut grass was causing my allergies to give me a splitting headache. I knew the food choices on campus were limited, but I had no idea that we were being subjected to the most evil empire ever.
It was 2 p.m., and it should have been near empty in the University Center, but there, standing in front of me in its red and yellow and freckled splendor was the sign for Wendy's and a line that stretched all the way out the door.
I would say that I was surprised, but in all honesty, I was not. For weeks there had been next to nothing to eat. This was simply another day in the feast or famine world of campus eating. So, I went ahead and reluctantly got in line with the other poor schlubs who were either going to class or, like me, working.
Oh, but this was not to be a day like any other, not by a long shot. On a normal day at Wendy's there is some food variety. Today, there was nothing.
"I'd like a Mandarin salad," I said.
"We're out of Mandarin salad."
"Ok," I replied, more than a little disappointed. "Then I'd like a broccoli cheese baked potato."
"We're out of potatoes."
"Well, what do you have that isn't a burger?" I asked.
"We have ..." She paused in a way that would have made even an Olsen twins movie into a cliffhanger of epic proportions. I waited, on edge, ready to buy anything that was not a burger and did not have bacon.
"We have side salad." (Now, if you have not had a Wendy's side salad, you may be interested to know that it does have bacon, even on the Caesar.)
At this point, like any rational person, a lot of four letter words began racing through my head, not the least of which was, "What?" I was feeling normal food withdrawal, the likes of which most people only feel in prison or in basic training. My wishes were simple enough: I wanted something that was not a burger or fries. They could have given me a can of dog food spread over a sugar cookie. I probably would have called it good eatin'.
I got out of line feeling, at best, dejected, rejected and tired of being subjected to the yellow and red menace.
Beware the freckle-faced redhead bearing square patties. Right behind her, there's a brunette with a shovel and a craving for nachos.
I know I'm not the only one who has become sick of being forced to eat the same thing day after day. I think this may be a form of psychological torture in some of the more passively brutal regimes in the world. Honestly, things have gotten to the point that I seriously wonder whether or not anyone is aware of the fact that there are people on campus during the summer. No, there probably is no good time to switch food vendors, but surely they could have worked on one facility and then the other. At this point, no one would mind going to the Moody Towers or to the UC Satellite to get something, anything.
No, there probably is not anything any single student, faculty member or staff member can do to vindicate this situation, but, please, in the future, at least make sure the one place on campus that is open is fully stocked.
Brady, an English sophomore, is a guest columnist
To contact the
To contact other members