#campus dining

The expression not to look a gift horse in the mouth comes from the fact that you can figure a horse’s age based on their teeth, so examining a horse’s mouth is the same as doubting the horse’s suitability for labor, and thus the generosity of the gift giver.

The expression there’s no such thing as a free meal is pretty self explanatory. In my case the cost was a meal and chat with one of my friends about girl stuff, but that’s next month’s story. First I had to deal with my own free meal, which as foreshadowed earlier would not actually be free.

Thanks to a Frisbee to the head, I was getting treated to free toppings on my noodle dish. Since I still had to pay for the meal, well, you see the drift of my previous point. Anyway, thanks to an odd work and school schedule, when I went to the noodle shop in the freshmen’s food court Thursday afternoon, there wasn’t much of a line, and soon enough the Frisbee thrower greeted me with a grin and a peppy greeting that threw me off a bit with its sheer exuberance.

“Hey!” she stated, “You made it!”

I blinked at the greeting before shrugging and reminding her it was Thursday.

Mary, a young girl with tanned skin and black hair, might have not been a freshman, as I’d just presumed that. Either way she’d offered free toppings on my order as apologies for the disc to the head, so I graciously accepted her offer, and the time had come to collect.

“That it is,” Mary said, bringing me back to the matter at hand, “so how’s two free meats sound?”

I blanched for a moment. The normal deal with the noodle place was one noodle/pasta, one meat, one sauce, once cheese, and three toppings. Anything else cost extra. I reflexively looked around in case a wayward manager caught wind of her deal, but fortunately we were at a public university and the managers didn’t care.

Once I recovered I nodded as casually as I could at the prospect of free meat, “Sure. Thanks.”

Mary grinned and went to work. I had told her when we met over the Frisbee that she really cared about her meal making, and as a bachelor who knew how to cook I enjoyed watching others go at it as well. Mary was good at eyeing portions and mixing them together properly and thoroughly. Her creations were an even mix of deliciousness that made it worth the obscenely high calories and sodium wrought from eating campus food.

“Pardon the question,” I asked, “but did you cook a lot before you came here?”

Mary nodded, “Mom taught me some stuff before I got here so I wouldn’t have to rely on campus food all the time. Ironic, ain’t it?”

I nodded, “Especially if you live in the dorms.”

“I have a hotplate and some big batteries,” she declared.

I smirked, “Science major?”

“Electrical engineering,” Mary replied, “Wanna get my Master’s so trade school was out, though an option if things don’t pan out.”

I blinked. A freshman with a plan? What was the world coming to? Well, if the world was ending at least I had meat and beer in the fridge.

Once Mary finished making my dinner she packaged it up and rang me up on the register.

“Here you go,” she said, handing me my food.

I grinned and took it, “Surprised you fit it all in there.”

Mary glanced to each side of her before leaning in slightly, “I may have used the next size of container, and since just loading it with meat might look suspicious, I threw in some extra noodles, too.”

I blinked in wonder at this noodle goddess.

“I need to get hit in the head more often.”

Mary chuckled, “Come around this Friday afternoon to where you were last time and it can be arranged. I can’t guarantee free meat but I’m sure we can work something out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, “if I can’t swing by I’ll see you next Thursday.”

“Looking forward to it.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Really?”

“I like our chats,” she declared.

Since there wasn’t ever really a line when I ordered it gave me a chance to talk to her. I like to be nice to the help, so sue me. Mostly we just complained about the school and me reminiscing about when I was an undergrad, which would explain why I knew so little about her.

“Well, um… good to hear. Anyway, thanks.”

Mary nodded, “Have a good day.”

“Thanks you too.”

I left the food court and made the trudge up the hill back toward my apartment. Yes, I had to walk up a hill both ways in the snow to get to and from my apartment. That’s my story and I’m sticking with it.

Anyway, I made it about halfway home when the full impact of my conversation with Mary hit like a barrel of bricks. Stopping mid step, I blinked ahead and uttered the first eloquent, coherent musing on the subject I could think of: