DAMMIT. I’m missing something here that’s really important, but I just don’t get it.
I let my head roll back in the chair, and see the clock on the wall behind me. It’s almost four; Kyle is probably getting out of her class soon, and the dining hall will be opening just about that time. She’d said she was going to get takeout from there and come home to wait for Bert. My stomach growls slightly. I look around quickly to see if anyone heard it, but apparently the rest of the student body in the lower-level lounge with me are too absorbed in their homework or CD players to have paid my gurgling any mind. Fair enough. I pack up my gear; hopefully, I’ll catch her just as she’s getting into line.
Despite my best efforts, I don’t see Kyle as I weave my way through the “novel culinary experiences” offered by the dining hall. That’s a phrase I always thought was kind of suspect, honestly. Breaking it apart, “culinary” is pretty standard given the topic under discussion, that is to say, food. So it’s about food. Food can be experienced, but by and large I wouldn’t call food itself an “experience”. It has to be some really good food to qualify as an experience, rather than just another meal. Like orgasmic chocolate. That would be one hell of a culinary experience.