I remember that day like it was yesterday. Indeed, it seemed to catch the corner of my eye, I’d never seen that before. In my head the order of food places was always Booster Juice, Pita Pit, Pizza Pizza, and Tim Hortons. Suddenly, there it was. A line going somewhere I had never seen before. Well technically it was two people waiting, so I don’t know if that actually counts as a line. Nonetheless, a gleaming light, a glowing red sign hypnotized me. I began to walk towards it until I could make out what it said.
Teriyaki Experience. And what an experience it would be.
I walked towards the line with fear and trepidation. What was this new wonder I had discovered? Why had I never seen it before? Did anyone know it really existed? It was like that room in Harry Potter that you can only know about if you really need some wizard “private time”. In any case, it was like I was 13 again, and bored of studying for my middle school exams – I thought I had discovered something amazing.
So I get to the front of the line with bated breath, order my beef teriyaki with brown rice, and wait. I walk across the line and what do I see before me? The food is already there. Perfect. It was like the McDonald’s advertisement food. I grab it and a pair of chopsticks and go on my way.
I eat the whole thing ravenously. I was really hungry, okay? I don’t even look at what I eat, all I care about is filling the empty void in my heart stomach. I feel satisfied and full and begin to head to the library to study for a test the next day.
Just as I sit down it hits me. Like a truck full of bowling balls being propelled by rocket fuel. Soy vey, I exclaim! It all began to make sense. How foolish I was to believe that I was going to be granted a true culinary experience. I was poisoned by what wasn’t even food!
I burst into the ARC washroom, struggling to find a way to get rid of the venom that was slowly entering my bloodstream. My vision begins to blur, and I fall to the ground, presumably to contract every STD ever.
My life flashes before me. I think of the good things: my childhood dog, when I had that TA in first year that “didn’t believe in marking hard”, and my first skullfuck. I also think of the bad times though: when my family went to my favourite restaurant without me and everyone got Jordans, the entirety of middle school, and my first time getting skullfucked. Why didn’t I accomplish more? Why must I leave with such regret?
I awake in a pool of my own vomit. For the first time in a pretty long while, I poop my pants accidentally. With sweat beading down my brow, I stumble out of the washroom, to the Golden Words office, determined to tell this tale so others will not fall for the seductress known as Teriyaki Experience.