Forget Salsa Rico. If you're really hankering for some tasty Tex-Mex head over to Chipotle and swipe your Monoply Money Debit Card (read: Evergreen account). Although you'll miss out on experiencing genuine anarchy like you'll see in front of Salsa Rico at any waking hour, I suspect you won't regret your decision to get off campus. The Chipotle T-Shirts tell me that they make new chips daily, and the Salsa Rico chips tell me that they don't.
In fact, you can probably turn a blind eye to every on-campus eatery. They're all over-crowded, they frequently run out of the one thing you were craving, and God forbid you thought about eating a meal at mealtime - - the only way you can get near a food counter is if you decide to lunch sometime between dinner and when that particular station decides to close early.
However, there remains one. One food location to rule them all. Shining like a lantern of liberty amidst the darkness of inedible tyranny, Surfin' Joe's has established itself as the Loyola student's last hope.
Like a nurturing mother, it can provide you with sustenance for whatever ails you in the delectable form of higher education's best known panacea: caffeinated coffee. All-nighter writing a paper? Java.
All-nighter of debauchery? Cup o' Joe. Suffering a debilitating headache and you can't figure out how to turn down the sunlight? Get yourself some of that mud. Looking for some refreshment on a warm afternoon? Why iced coffee of course.
And better yet, if for some unknown reason you need something other than that brown, perky ambrosia, Mama Bear can provide for you still. A robust college diet of bagels, Pop-Tarts, and the occasional piece of fruit for those exceptionally healthy days (following those exceptionally unhealthy days).I can't think of anything else I could require. Except maybe a hobby.
I can see you now Gretchin twitching and involuntarily blinking as you guzzle down your third Half-Caf-Double Chin-Frothy-Flabby-Tall-Venti.
See, I don't need artificial stimulation to get my day going. Well, not coffee at least. When I roll out of a bed, cot, abandoned car, or TGI Fridays's booth, I'm looking for something that will satisfy all my dietary needs. I turn to Boulder Café. Why you ask? Well for starters how bout the ambiance. I feel like I'm in a chic hospital cafeteria or at the very least a renovated PS 116 lunchroom. Then we have the cornucopia of choices. Should I visit Who on the sushi bar and his team of slicing samurai or hit the grille and shoot the proverbial stuff with Mike and his band of deep fried gourmets. I'll put my #4 combo up against your pro Brazil-bean agenda any day. If you had your way I'm sure we'd all be hopped up yelling at each other in Portuguese, debating who was the better soccer player Pele or Ronaldinho. At Boulder Café we discuss 'Merican things like the plausibility of souping up a John Deer with a hemi, or the best topping for apple pie, cheese or an American flag. Then we have the location of each establishment.
Yours is on the way towards classroom buildings, nerd. Look at me I'm on my way towards class, I hope there's a quiz, I love outside readings. You know how we do over Boulder way? It's a party, everybody is working for the weekend. And we have fountain sodas (drop-the-mic moment). What else could you want? Come by anytime, on your way towards East Side where all the magic happens. But lose your frothy attitude.
Be the first to comment on this article!