Everybody has awful days in college. In this way, it’s similar to the rest of life. Even in the Union bubble, there are arguments with friends and loved ones, rain-filled weeks and tests that people simply didn’t have time to study for. When it comes down to it, there’s only one way to end a day that’s gone poorly: a cheap meal from a restaurant that’s not gonna take too much from your wallet. The Cardinal and Cream staff has written in their choices for these “Bad Day Restaurants” and hope you’ll be able to take advantage of our wisdom.
Austin Maddox
Listen. Do you hear that? That call?
It is something that is familiar, yet shameful. Something that brings joy, but also pain. Something that you would never admit to partake in, but something that knows you by name.
Do you hear the Bell?
On a bad day, Taco Bell is near. Like a long lost friend, Taco Bell is awaiting your visit at 1 a.m. with your roommates to get a Cheesy Gordita Crunch and 15 packets of mild sauce. During your time there, you consume the delicious, savory mystery-meat and down a 32-ounce Baja Blast, and man does it feel good. You are happy. Satisfied to your core. You tell yourself, “You know? Taco Bell…you alright!” You wonder why you don’t spend your meals there more often.
However, as time moves forward, its true character begins to show, and you are reminded why you vowed to never spend another night with the enticing love that is Taco Bell. You are resolved to forsake Taco Bell once more, but another evening comes along, maybe a week or even a month later, and the sound of the Bell beckons you to partake once again.
Yo quiero Taco Bell.
Liz Caldwell
I’m a pretty laid back person until it comes to food. I try to be low maintenance, but I will be rigidly unwavering and straight up rude when someone tries to mess with my food schedule and meal plan. I eat very specific foods, I am allergic to everything but water (not really, just nuts, but they’re in everything), I have a germaphobia issue that my dad tried to put me on a pill for because I cannot unsee the flu virus crawling all over those serving spoons in Cobo that you touch and then touch the food that goes into your mouth (you’re welcome) and I am partly vegan (don’t even get me started on cow’s milk).
That being said, food is a serious thing for me. So when there is Old Testament flooding, it’s cold and I haven’t eaten in six hours at the end of an ungodly long day on campus, the last thing I’m going to do is eat there too. What sounds GOOD is parmesan crusted chicken from Longhorn, but then I remember: Wait, I’M POOR. So what do I do? I swing through Chick-Fil-A and order an original chicken sandwich with fries FRIED CRISPY, THANK YOU (yes, this is a real thing, you have to ask for crispy fries and they are amazing), then I get water because I hate everything, all for roughly $7. And it is worth every gram of saturated fat that is going to clog my arteries and limit how many more long, terribly long, days I have left to live. Cheers.
Mattanah DeWitt
The most beautiful glimpse of heaven after a long day of wearing makeup, nice clothes and uncomfortable shoes is changing into my dad’s old t-shirt that’s probably as old as I am, putting on my brother’s sweatpants that he still doesn’t know I stole from his room and getting my favorite sandwich, the Big Italian with no onions, from Jimmy Johns––it’s the perfect middle of Subway’s price and Panera’s quality. To sit in my dorm room, devouring that messy sandwich like a starving high school football player, is a real-life fantasy, and my greatest wish for everyone on this earth is to experience that kind of beauty.
Clark Hubbard
Bad Asian food is the closest I can get to heaven until I die. Seriously, until an eighteen wheeler loses an axle going down I-40 on April 19, 2045 and crashes into my tall, lean frame, I will not know joy like I know when I am eating greasy, spicy Asian food. This love started as a child, but it’s only blossomed since, and I can confidently say that I’ve tried every place in Jackson––at least those available from doing Google searches––and have come to a final conclusion: Panda Chinese and Japanese on Oil Well is the winner. Their lo mein is top notch, portions are beyond generous and the staff is consistently friendly. I try and get something new every time I go in there, and since their menu is just as long as every other Asian restaurant menu, I have no doubt that I will never have to repeat a dish for as long as I live.
