Taco Tuesdays that were wildly inconsistent.
TACO TUESDAYS THAT WERE WILDLY INCONSISTENT.
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Remember the thrill? Every Tuesday, a hopeful trek to the dining hall. Would it be a culinary triumph, a vibrant fiesta of seasoned ground meat, fresh pico, and perfectly warmed tortillas? Or would it be... "Mystery Meat Monday" disguised as a taco? The anticipation was half the fun. We’d line up, chatting about problem sets and upcoming exams, but always with one eye on the serving trays. Some weeks, it was genuinely delicious, a much-needed break from bland pasta. We'd load up our plates, extra salsa, double guac if we were lucky. Those were the nights we stayed a little longer, debating philosophy over lukewarm queso.
But then there were the other Tuesdays. The ones where the "taco shell" felt like cardboard and the "filling" defied classification. We'd exchange knowing glances, a silent agreement that yes, this was a culinary adventure of a different kind. Yet, even those less-than-stellar tacos became part of our shared narrative. They were a consistent inconsistency, a small, predictable unpredictability in a world of intense academic rigor and relentless deadlines.
Those hurried meals, whether glorious or questionable, weren’t just about the food. They were about the impromptu conversations, the fleeting moments of camaraderie before diving back into late-night studies. They were about finding humor and connection in the everyday, proving that even the simplest campus rituals could forge indelible bonds. The cafeteria wasn't just a place to eat; it was where our stories unfolded, one inconsistent Taco Tuesday at a time.