I feel like I just won a season of that awful TV show Survivor, when I can proudly say that I have successfully survived nearly four years of living on Chartwells food. Is there any way I can get a medal for that?
Only now am I starting to feel the effects of my lack of nutrition. Not to point any fingers, but I do recall a particular moment during my freshman year where I thought I was the token human being in the world suffering from the black plague, but in reality it was just a minor case of food poisoning.
Here is yet another prime example of the quality of food at our university: earlier today I picked up soup from Bishop Café and one of the Chartwell’s employees asked me to let her know how the soup tasted and if I enjoyed it because it looked absolutely awful to her. Seriously?
Yes, this is a dramatic example, but it still is true. A girl can’t survive on the surplus of fried food that is offered all the time on campus. The same unhealthy options are offered every day of the week. Even though I only venture into Hamwil and my personal favorite, though overpriced, Thomson Corner, I still feel that I have very few options.
Just the thought of dabbling with the fine dining at Smith makes my stomach turn.
Smith, to me, is like the Fear Factor of OWU. Out of the three occasions I’ve been there, I felt like I was force feeding myself with an identical, though blander, version of Hamwil in hopes to win some lump sum of cash, but instead I have to settle for an ice cream cone to go.
What’s even worse is that I feel like I’m going to rehab every time I leave for break; I literally undergo withdrawal from chicken tenders and then have to detox my entire system.
Margaret Bagnell
Transcript Reporter