It was the same story every time I walked into NIC’s cafeteria. Each time I would push my way through those metallic turnstiles, I let out the heavy tortured sigh of a man who is given the same exact options to eat every single day: Cheese pizza, calzone, fried bologna and cheese sandwich, fried chicken dippers. I find it ironic that Dining Services’ mission statement says they provide “nutritious meals” when at least two-thirds of their food selections run along this artery-clogged vein.
But I can put these problems far behind me now because I’m lucky if I get three full meals each day. The money in my food account ran out in late October and since that point, it has been a struggle to get myself food. My account would have been refilled if it were possible, but my parents understandably can’t afford to do that. They have two children in college, numerous repairs to be made on their vehicles, and monthly bills to pay on a single income. Food on campus is overpriced, plain and simple. It cost me $15 to $20 a day to eat no more than two full meals. When Dining Services is your sole source of food, this adds up quickly over time. It soon becomes the same situation as a person who eats out for every single meal every single day.
It’s for this reason I find myself in a Catch-22 position. I live in the dorms and have no vehicle of my own for transportation. I am almost completely trapped on campus, only having my bike or my own two feet to lead me to the nearest grocery store. Luckily for me though, there is a bus system I can take to stores that are cheaper though further away…but because of the wonderful inconvenience of this bus system, a simple trip to Wal-Mart will often take several hours to accomplish. Living in the dorms offers another gastronomic conundrum as I’m limited to the cooking device of a microwave, meaning I can only choose between getting frozen meals and dry foods.
Today for lunch I ate the last piece of the $2
expired apple pie and a piece of bread with peanut butter on it. For dinner I had half a package of $1 rice curry. It’s “nutritious” choices like these I’m forced to make that have left me constantly lethargic, tired, and empty-stomached.
Maybe this is finally my chance to start calling myself a Bohemian, since I’ve quite literally become a starving artist. Maybe then it would give me the right to complain about the “elitist bourgeoisie.”
I know I’m not the only one experiencing these kinds of troubles, so maybe I’ll spearhead a student movement to get Dining Services reformed. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m nothing more than a delirious, hunger-ridden fool who is too hopeful for his own good and can sense nothing but the sad grumbles of his own belly.
Opinions expressed in editorial and opinion articles are the views of individual NIC students. These views do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the Sentinel, North Idaho College, or any other organizations or groups there-in. North Idaho College is not responsible for the accuracy of statements or opinions shared.
