Recession hits home: foodless restaurant

Nothing is worse than an angry Southern fan that just happens to be hungry. It’s akin to attempting to mix oil and water, republicans and democrats or orange and green.
After watching my beloved Jaguars ‘get the business’ from Florida Agricultural And Mechanical University on Saturday, the last thing I wanted was to deal with any mishaps.
Enter Restaurant “Pepper.”
After taking some time to cool down after the heart-breaking loss, I decided to join my fellow hungry (and angry!) fans for a post-game meal at Pepper’s.
Upon arrival, I waited for a fountain drink for half an hour, while the rest of the table found the bottom of an advertised bottomless chips and salsa appetizer. (I asked if there was a prize for finding the fabled bottom; there wasn’t. Consider that strike one, shall we?)
It took some cleaver finagling—I tripped the waiter—to get our orders taken, after another 30 minutes of waiting in hunger, and a deeper hatred for Pepper’s than I knew was possible was created.
Apparently restaurants are also facing the recession, as the only thing available that night was oxygen. Chips, salsa, bread, water, milk, eggs, juice, napkins, chairs—all of these things failed to make the cut for Pepper’s ration list. It was then that it occurred to me that maybe financial institutions weren’t the only ones to be hit hard from the recession.
While at first I made a comment about it in passing to our waiter, who was getting increasingly flustered each time he came to our table, the increasing rise in agriculture and food item shortages became a reality for four Southern students and a lone Famuan.
“It’s been an issue all day,” was one of the running lists of excuses our server told us. “We’ve been running out of stuff left and right, and it’s affecting our tips.” We were unaware of the chain reaction that banks could have on one night of food and fun for college students in Baton Rouge.
The manger on duty came over with her patented “I could give two damns about whatever it is that you have to say, but if all I have to do is listen to you gripe and moan and take a drink off your ticket, so be it” look, only to tell us what Mr. Waiter/Server said hours ago, only in a perky, upbeat voice. This time, the excuse was delivered with a new twist—someone actually took blame for the lack of food and the lack of ‘a good time had by all’ at our table. She informed us that the restaurant’s management made several miscalculations in ordering food, and of course, she would take the burnt, undercooked, or flat out unappealing-looking food off everyone’s ticket. Before leaving, she encouraged us to visit Pepper’s again, either separately, or as a group.
“When’s the next time are y’all expecting a food shipment? Because I’m not coming back until you have, you know…food,” was my response.
Today, the entire incident—the three hour wait while at a table in a near empty establishment, and the lack of food that humans wanted—seems funny, but the reality is that the talking heads who said the nation would feel the trickle down effect of the recession “eventually” were wrong.
Because it’s here now, hitting college students where it hurts, in our wallets and stomachs, in our refund checks, forcing us back to the collegiate staple food of Ramen noodles.
The bailout didn’t help struggling farmers who can’t grow the peppers, tomatoes and seasonings needed for a salsa—or four hungry Southern students Saturday.