You walk down to the Bistro. What should you order? You have bad memories of the time you ordered the hummus and discovered the cold chicken inside of it. But you are feeling rather experimental, so you order the Buckaroo.

You write down the name Max E. Pad on the slip, just for the fun of hearing it called out. The cashier overcharges you, of course. As you wait, you read the front page of USA Today. After twenty minutes, you walk up to the counter to find out what has been taking so long. The cook lost your order, so you re-order it.

 Thirty minutes later, you get your food, you sit down and take your time eating it. Maybe someone you know will show up. Do you really want them to see you eating all by yourself? You watch the TV/jukebox on the upper level of the Bistro. Gotta love that contemporary pop. You observe the people who walk up and down the passageway outside. There's that weird girl you always see talking to herself. You see some dogs fighting outside. Oh wait, they're fucking. And they're both males. This sure is a liberal campus.

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