Polimom returned late last night from her first trip to College Station consumed with a burning question:
How do normal people manage to eat? (By “normal”, Polimom means people over 30, accompanied by children, who are not interested in sushi or pizza.)
We spent well over an hour Friday evening trying to find a restaurant that did not have several hundred students lined up into the parking lot. We’d probably still be driving around looking for dinner, had we not stumbled across a tiny (well-nigh invisible) Mexican restaurant tucked into the back of a strip mall.
Either I’m getting old faster than I realized (surely not!), or the residents of Bryan and College Station simply abandon their towns to the students on Fridays. Since it’s my blog and I don’t wish to acknowledge any relationship between my hunger Friday night and my inability to mingle with hordes of teenagers, I’m guessing folks up there in Aggieland just order out.
So okay, maybe I didn’t actually approach starvation, but next time I head up that way, I’m packing some food!
I almost starved!
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