In between sips of my Amaretto Sour, I kept gingerly clinking my teeth together.

One of my hallmates suggested going to Nick’s, and I realized my usual response of “I’m not drunk enough to eat at Nick’s” was not accurate.

“I can’t feel my teeth,” I offered.

“Great, let’s go!”

Janice was the only person on the hall who was sober and awake. She graciously and foolishly agreed to drive a bunch of drunk people to Nick’s.

Surveying the crowd of us, she responsibly pointed out, “you won’t all fit in the car.”

Fro’s argument was clear and strong as he tossed her the keys, “Nick’s!”

We entered the car in shifts. The last available space was horizontal. Two of us had to wedge ourselves like Tetris pieces onto the laps of those already on the back seat.

My neck bent awkwardly and my head was jammed into the ceiling.

The Nick’s virgins got a briefing on the proper etiquette. Be ready by the time you get to the front of the line. No substitutions. Yes, you had to eat the macaroni salad. Don’t look, just eat.

We debated the merits of pouring ketchup over everything. We sang along with the radio. We accidentally poked each other in sensitive areas whenever Janice took a sharp corner.

Before I’d taken one bite, that first garbage plate from Nick’s turned out to be one of the most nourishing meals I’d ever had.

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​This post is a response to this week’s writing prompt at Write on Edge.

“Certain local items linger in your mind and weave together with memories and stories you remember with an almost possessive type of nostalgia. This week you have 350 words to write a fiction or creative non-fiction piece in which a local or regional item or industry plays a role.”

My college-era nostalgia is possessive indeed! As stated in the video, a garbage plate from Nick Tahou’s is a rite of passage for college students in Rochester, NY. He neglected to mention the drunk in the wee hours of the morning part.