So one day I was sitting in a stall with stomach pains, flipping through the Argus after a particularly disgusting meal at Davenport. While taking in the comprehensive and erudite wit of our fair paper, I was slapped in the face by a particular insert. It read “Wes U Dining: Positive Changes for You!” and then proceeded to list, in a series of self-congratulatory notes, how “positive” our dining experience here has become. The majority of these bullet points consisted of fifteen-minute dinner extensions meant to fool freshmen into complacency over their weak-ass meal plan. As I strained against the stringy roast beef of despair Davenport calls a “sandwich,” I slammed my fist against the wall in a fit of rage and constipation. How dare the prison-community-catering Aramark tell us how many bold improvements have been made here, when clearly airdrops of this food to Iraq could be mistaken for weapons of ass destruction? To begin with, I haven’t eaten a meal here (as I’ve heard many also boast) in well nigh two years, not counting the aforementioned sandwich (slopped with bad mustard and capped by two pieces of stale baguette—$5.95 or some bullshit. Outrageous). The chicken nuggets are sub-McDonalds quality at Microsoft prices—they have so much filler it’s like eating Scrapple bites. I have heard from reputable sources that there is half as much food now at MoCon—they’ve reduced selection and simply duplicated the offerings, to increase efficiency and reduce their overhead. They advertise this as “fast tracks” in the aforementioned insert, whose “theme” they “change every three weeks.” This is piss on our heads with a big sign that says, “It’s raining!” Not to mention the prices – are we paying in Euros? British Pounds? Is this exquisite cuisine imported exclusively from the highlands of Cambodia? Pizza dough flown from Sicily? The finest Kobe beef? I don’t know how these people sleep at night when friends of mine on financial aid can barely afford the points to buy some olive oil ($13).
But the problems don’t stop with the dining halls. WeShop, that bastion of late-night snacking, has some seriously F-ed up priorities. Since my freshmen year (three long years ago) it has steadily grown its stock of juices, sodas, candies and junk while significantly ignoring what I like to call “food.” With its recent re-organization, one is, upon entering, immediately thrust into the middle of a Nabisco executive’s dream world. I can find thirty different kinds of soda, as many varieties of candy (black licorice anyone? Yogurt-covered lychee nuts?), three different kinds of Tobaccaroni and Cheese, and no organic meat. In fact, the *only* chicken is manufactured by “Shur-Fine,” as in “Yeah Bob, Sure. It looks Fine.” This company also manufactures as diverse offerings as matches, plastic silverware and BoTox injections. Finally, Aramark had the balls to say that in response to Wesleyan’s request for “legitimate ethnic food” they are now offering the “Tex-Mex Program ‘Tortilla Fresca,’” or, for the ethnically-challenged, the “Fresh Tortilla Program.” Tex-Mex is about as ethnic as your local DKE chapter, not to mention that it’s a 200-year tradition of American bastardizations. Tex-Mex is, if anything, the most imperialist of “ethnic” foods, because although American Chinese food is radically different here, at least we never annexed part of China. Remember the Alamo? I bet they ate better. If you’re not outraged, you should be.
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