This isn’t the first time I’ve written about the Bistro. Like many other students on campus, I have strong feelings about the Bistro.

My first complaint: the noise. Very few moments in my life have I eaten in the Bistro and been at peace. Usually as I approach the steps leading into LRTUC, I have this growing apprehension about the rambunctiousness of the Bistro. As I get closer and closer, I try to gauge the crowd. It never fails to disappoint me when I take the first two steps and can hear the noise.

To further this displeasure, when I hear so much noise, I often round the corner to find a terribly long line. Sometimes it extends all the way past ISE and towards the hallway like a great big snake misfortune. Since I have come this far, I just get in line to wait my turn. Minutes pass, and do they pass slowly. I move a little more. More minutes pass.

By this point, I am asking myself, “Why did I come here,” or  thinking “I have homework I need to do,” or “Why is this line taking so long?” If you’re a Millikin student, you already know the Bistro menu and it isn’t very big. Please, just order your food. You’ve had all this time to think about what you wanted, and instead you spent it being a chatty Cathy with someone across the room. As a cashier, there is nothing more annoying than someone who just stands there staring at a menu, with 30 people behind them. Don’t be that guy.

Finally, it is my turn. Twenty minutes after I first got in line I order my food only to turn around and find that the only open table is a dirty one at the back of the room. I saunter over to the table; it’s a wobbly table, no napkins to clean with, no salt or pepper to season with. After I swipe the crumbs onto the floor, I begin the waiting game.

Waiting for my order to come up, I can’t help but people-watch. Some people act very bizarrely in the Bistro. They don’t act that way on campus, but when they come to LRTUC and the Bistro, they let their inner freak out. What follows is a bunch of people running around, laughing, screaming and talking over one another, until the incessant chatter builds and builds and the buzzer goes off in my hand.

I guess this is the price we pay. If you can’t make time to go to the caf, which is only a slightly better condition just because there is more space, then you go to the Bistro like everyone else. You wait, and wait, and wait, and then you hurry and eat and then you get out of there. I feel terrible for the people who work the Bistro day in and day out. Surely if I had to be there longer than it takes to eat my food, I would stick my head in the fryer. Convenience comes at a cost. With our busy lives, it’s just a price we pay. If it wasn’t there, I would go hungry more often. Just take my advice, wear good tennis shoes, eat and run.