So, look. I get off work at 4:00 am. By the time I recover from the inevitable coma that follows a graveyard shift, the dining hall has closed. What’s my solution? I get delivery.
So I had heard good things about this restaurant called Seaboat so I order a meal: 3 shrimp, 2 catfish strips, 2 chicken tenders, a roll, and a side of mac & cheese for $10. Sounds great.
TWO AND A HALF GODFORSAKEN HOURS LATER I have called the place twice only to have a kind old southern woman tell me that “she don’t know where yo’ food done be at”. This story takes place in central Illinois by the way. So I finally get a call.
“Hello sir, I’m at the loading dock with your food.”
… Motherf&*$er what made you think I was waiting for you at the loading dock?!?!? I ordered from a residence hall with a clearly defined front entrance!!!
So after a few minutes of convincing this idiot to come to the main entrance (yeah, I had to convince him), he pulls up.
The guy waves me over to his car… Doesn’t even get out… Makes me physically open the car door and pull my food out from his back seat. Yup, I had to do that.
I just took a break from my studies to let you know of this hellish experience.