Sitting in my 12:30 p.m. writing class I wait impatiently for the professor to arrive.

Dreaming of a more conducive class schedule where 12:30 p.m. is reserved for eating lunch, I begin to salivate as I fantasize about biting into a fatty burger. I’m reminded of the Carl’s Jr. commercial with the sexy girl riding the mechanical bull while ingesting her weekly allotment of calories. If I were to eat that burger, not only will I be the size of the bull but I’ll be riding no one. Delirious from hunger, I fathom a machine that sucks the calories out of juicy burgers.

Maybe Willy Wonka will finally follow through with a sugar free gum meal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. My jealousy of Violet Beauregard consumes me. I snap out of it and am struck with reality that there is no steak dinner gum or a calorie-free burger.

In an attempt to alter my fantasy of food to a more conducive fantasy involving maintaining my figure, I think of Mediterranean food, my favorite un-indulgent cuisine. Back home in Los Angeles, I frequent Gaby Mediterranean restaurant and feast on kabob, rice pilaf, hummus, and baba ganoush. Lost in my food fantasy, I finally hear the commotion of my classroom – the professor still hasn’t arrived. The rowdy students decide 15 minutes is long enough and we all coalesce and bust of our otherwise uneventful waste of a solid lunch hour class and head for the food courts.

I decide to give Baba’s Falafels a chance. Eagerly, I order a side of hummus, baba ganoush, tabouli and pita bread. Five dollars and 50 cents later, I’m presented with a plate of baby food-esque slop. I grab my utensils, ignoring the trail of ants along the counter, and seek solace in the fact that my Diet Coke was included in the meal. Alone – just me and my red tray of overpriced food – I search for a table.

I find a nice bar stool and table with a view of the big screen TV. Eminem is playing in the background. I congratulate myself on attempting to make the best of my free hour. As I sit down and shift in my seat I notice my tray is now adhered to the tabletop by some mysterious viscous goo left over from the inconsiderate slob before me.

Tried by yet another test of my patience, my appetite prevails and I dig into my lunch. I first dip the fluffy warm pita into my “hummus.” Unable to even identify the taste, I’m distracted by the clumpy, cold, moist texture reminiscent of spoiled tapioca.

I try the baba ganoush. Usually a delicious eggplant dip, this was analogous to post-Halloween throwup caked to the toilet bowl.

I take a deep breath and risk trying the tabouli – distracted by the overpowering garlic flavor I scarf it down in an effort to put an end to this horrific dining experience. Disgusted with myself and Baba, I pound my Diet Coke- still unsuccessful in washing away the repulsive taste lingering in my mouth

I approach the Baba counter and ask for a refill. The woman has the audacity to charge me 59 cents, so I storm off. Relenting, I surrender to the inherent American tendency toward obesity and hit up Wendy’s and order a #2.

My ass will hate me later but at least I’m satisfied now. Fortunately rumor has it Associated Students is planning on saving our asses from the repulsion of Baba’s Falafels and hopefully enhancing our dining experience in the UCen with something edible. Although this may be the first positive thing A.S. has done for us, it’s definitely a step in the right direction. Until then we must surrender to the motto “a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.” Bon appetite – there’s nothing petite about it.

Former Nexus sex columnist Molly Blank is a senior psychology major.