I always knew I’d fall in love someday, but I never thought it’d be like this. Truth is, I’ve never felt this way about any other food truck before. When I’m hungry, nothing quite compares. Whether I’m craving the Magic Meatball Salad or the Tabouli Wrap, I can’t get enough of Magic Carpet.
My love affair with this vegetarian heaven–on–wheels began when I was a freshman living in Upper Quad. Magic Carpet was only a block away, but through my dewy freshman eyes, the journey seemed infinite. Nevertheless, the trek from the Nipple to 36th Street was never too daunting for me. Through rain or snow, I’d go the distance as long as some mysterious meatless morsel awaited me at the end.
This year though, I know better. That was no trek; it was a straight–up blessing. Now I’m a sophomore living off–campus with no meal plan or real cooking skills. I’d give anything to have such Middle Eastern goodness just outside my door. I need my food made for me, preferably packaged in a cute aluminum container with a plastic fork and knife. I need warm pita bread and veggies, and I need it for under five dollars. I need Magic Carpet and I need it bad. For this and many other reasons, I’ll gladly traverse half of campus to get my falafel fix.
On the way, many may try to barter for my love, but they can’t compete. I only have eyes for one. I won’t stop til I see those dark green awnings sweetly swaying in the breeze. But would you expect any less? I’m in love, you guys. It’s like they say: distance makes the heart grow fonder. Wait, no, that’s not it. True love waits? Baby, there ain’t no mountain high enough? Whatever, I’m going to go get a Seitan Grinder.
