Our campus had a
Burger Kingtm. As fast food goes, it's not great, but it was nearly infinitely better than the cafeteria food. (not that this was a hard thing to do..)
Pending the opening of our new campus center, the Burger Kingtm relocated to its new facilities. In its place, our catering service provided an all new lunch facility, named "Mexpress".
On first appearance, it looks to be mexican fast food.. kinda like Taco Belltm only somehow, lower class. I figured, what the hell, why not give it a shot. I ordered a pair of chicken tacos and a quesadilla, along with the biggest Coke they had to wash it down with.
This is the most expensive Mexican food I've ever seen in a fast food setting. I mean, when was the last time you paid $3.75 for a quesadilla and you weren't in a nice sit-down restaurant like On The Border?
Anyways, foolishly assuming that since it wasn't dirt cheap, it might actually taste alright, I sat down to consume my rapidly produced food-like product. Upon examination, the tacos contained lettuce, shredded cheese, sliced jalapenos, and some sort of chicken-like paste. It oozed the same reddish grease that Taco Bell beef-product tacos oozed. I shuddered in abject horror, closed my eyes, and bit into the thing.
I refuse to recount the entire consuming process. It is a horror that none of you should be subjected to.
I realized, from the taste, appearance, and texture, that most likely, the "chicken" tacos were actually made from 100% real Mexicans. Since the wrapper didn't even say "chicken" but said "ChIx" instead, we can conclude that they were probably female.
No matter what I did, I couldn't get the taste out of my mouth.
I tried to smoke them out, by bumming a clove cigarette from one of my friends who saw me in dire need of something sweet, smoky, and curiously strong. The Mexicans held their ground.
I tried to drown them, with my 48 ounce paper cup full of Coke. I guzzled. I gargled. I swished it around in my mouth, but still, they didn't budge an inch.
I shuddered and realized that this was the Alamo of fast food dining, and that I had just let the Mexicans across the border. They were charging fast towards my lower intestines with only my stomach, the Alamo, standing in their way. They were only slowed down slightly by the hydrochloric acid, their fearless leader relentless.
I wait in fear for them to finish their ruthless takeover and sip Pepto Bismol and pray.