Yes, that’s right. A cheeseburger. We only eat with our families three nights a week, meaning the rest of the time we fend for ourselves. The mense are supposedly open at night and during the weekend, but my friends and I have yet to figure out a schedule. This often means we skip meals or I tell myself that a cappuccino counts as a meal. Every night we wander to a mensa and find the hours are bizarre or THIS Thursday they aren’t serving dinner, etc. This weekend my friend and I tried to find one open for lunch, searched the entire city, missed lunch time by twenty minutes and by then nothing else, not even the cafes, were open anymore. I’ve been waiting for three days for the grocery store to open. I think I will stock up. Anyway, last night same story, wandered forever trying to see if any of the mense were open. None were. Then it was too late to find an inexpensive place that was serving food and hadn’t moved on to spritz. Finally, we found this hidden pub that actually served food too. It was 10pm and I was starving. I had no brain power left to decipher the menu, but I recognized the words “cheeseburger” and I grew warm and fuzzy inside.
I know everyone will hate me if I complain about the food but there is little variation. Everything is good, but everything is made with mozzarella, ham, tomatoes, mushrooms, and bread. I want sushi! I want tacos!
… and in case you were wondering, it was the BEST cheeseburger I’ve ever consumed.
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