College Campus Restaurant Reviews
College Campus Restaurant Reviews
Article by Stanley Barker
In college I majored in communications, and took a job working for the campus paper. For a bit I was in charge of writing menial articles about things folk failed to care about. They were forced between stories of political upheavals, and pictures of campus monuments and statues wrapped in streamers and wearing spray-painted moustaches. About twelve folk on campus doubtless read articles I had written, and I think the single time they ever did was when they were confused and thought they were finishing an article from a few pages before.But midway through my junior year I grabbed the opportunity to be one of the most read reporters the newspaper offered. The girl who wrote the eaterie reviews graduated in December and in January, through some variety of miracle, I was given her job.Of course, the paper did not have a massive budget and I was given 20 dollars a month to eat out, which was nothing considering I was meant to have an article on a new restaurant at the end of each week. As a standard poor varsity student, I was hardly making hire, but somehow I managed to eat out every Wed., and write about my experience every Thursday, with my restaurant reviews in the paper on Fridays. At first I talked my chums into taking turns coming with me. But they were given tired of me consistently critiquing everything I ate, as well as stealing their food to eat and judge it, and truly, they were as poor as me and could never afford to come more than a few times. Then I started asking boys, casually as though it weren’t a date, but with a foxy hope that they would pay for me after the meal. That went well for a couple of weeks, excepting the occasional time when a person was offended that I did not offer to pay, and then realized my ploy.Soon there had been preferred joke on my little campus, and the punch line of the joke suggested that one should never take me out to dinner. So I made a decision that to draft real cafe reviews, I would talk to talk to the managers of the restaurants and request that they feed me for free, at the risk of a poor review. There were no takers. Appears that my little campus restaurant reviews were not enough of a threat. After a week of clenching my teeth, asking for friends to join me, and begging people on the newspaper staff to come, a Wednesday night arrived and I had nobody to join me for dinner. Restaurant reviews were the most fun thing to occur to me at school, and I didn’t want to give them up, particularly with so many folk queuing for my job, but nothing scared me more than asking a hostess for a table for one. I decided to go early in the day, around 4 o’clock. I even thought about getting it to go, but I knew I couldn’t. I had to evaluate the environment and service as well as the food. I brought a notebook, so I could scribble away and look busy, even as I sat alone. I also brought a book, an iPod, and a computer, in case I did not look busy enough. The hostess seated me, and I pulled out my notebook long before the waitress even came to get my drink order, but rather than taking notes, I found myself sketching the people at tables around me. After about forty minutes, I had put away everything I brought with me, and found I could quietly enjoy a meal without being too ashamed to be eating alone. I wrote my cafe review and it was one the best I had ever written, even earning me a tiny promotion to forty food dollars a month. I kept writing until the end of the semester, and all through my senior year. Sometimes a friend or boyfriend joined me on my Wednesday expeditions, but ever since that first public meal alone, the night before I wrote my restaurant reviews became a night by myself to unwind, and participate in one of my favorite activities: eating.
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