The Unvegan

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A sorry substitute
A sorry substitute

As the night of the glorious buffet wound down, I incomprehensibly became hungry yet again. Perhaps that was because it was 4 am, or perhaps it was because I’m a fatty. Either way, I got it into my head that I only wanted Hooter’s wings (which were on special after midnight for only 25 cents a wing) or another buffet. Ridiculous as it seems, these were my only culinary desires in my late-night state. Unfortunately, despite my expert debate skills, I was unable to convince my friends to take me or accompany me.

Instead, we ended up back at our hotel, The Sahara, at a sad little 24-hour diner called The Caravan Cafe. While complaining about the lack of buffet/Hooter’s wings and how I refused to eat anything but, I was finally coerced into ordering the chicken strips. Such a disappointment. From the moment I opened the styrofoam container, I felt let down. Carrots and celery were strewn about in the back of the packaging, although thankfully those veggies don’t leak juices like pickles do. I disappointingly began eating the chicken strips, which were just the generic, deep-fried kind you can find anywhere.

Although they were cooked as well as anyone could expect for chicken strips, I couldn’t get over the fact that they were not what I desired that evening and pushed them away in disgust after eating just a couple. The true failure here was my friends for not heeding to my desires, yet it is the Caravan Cafe which was ultimately unable to quench my insatiable hunger.