Dear Hamp,
Or should I call you “Hampshire” now? I hate to say this, but I thought you were different. I feel like I don’t even know you anymore. What happened? You gave into social norms when you were perfect just the way you were. I can’t help but reminisce on how you used to be…
Yes, your insides were a little worn and dated, but that didn’t make your food any less delicious. Sure, you may not have been visited as much as Berk; but you were special, you were different, and that’s why you were loved.
Just because after three years I still couldn’t navigate your layout didn’t mean I did not enjoy going to you. Your old-school, confusing floor plan is what made you feel more comfortable and more homey. Now, you’re all new and circular, and you’re cold.
I know you’ve probably heard this a lot but I must reiterate: Burritos. Where’d they go? Why’d they have to leave? You were the one consistent place besides Burgers 101 that we could go to get a burrito every single day. That made you my hero, and now you’ve let me down.
Nice things are new and exciting and when I was told you were going in for a facelift last January I was excited to see what you’d look like, I just didn’t know you’d be a completely different building, or at least feel like one.
I also have to mention the soda situation. I know it’s not good for me and I barely drink it, but what about every once in a while when I’m sick of water and I need some carbonation? What about when I want to enjoy a nice cold Coca-Cola with my meal every once in a while? You can’t do that for me anymore and that’s heartbreaking.
Hamp, Peach Sorbet? What is this, some type of ice cream conspiracy? Where’s my chocolate soft serve and, more importantly, your all coveted freezer of hard ice cream? Your hard ice cream varieties made you unique in a cold, frozen world of soft-serve.
I get the whole healthy lifestyle thing and I am all for eating well, but I’m in college and if I’m going to gain the “senior 20,” then it’s now or never. That means I should be able to go to the dining hall (you) and eat whatever I want and not feel guilty about it because I’m young and I can do whatever I want. You took that away and I’m not sure if I can even regain your trust again.
Hamp, I miss the old you. Your new layout is pretty and everything, but now that your appearance is more pleasing you have no substance. It’s what’s on the inside that counts. Bring back the burritos, the soda machines, the hard ice cream, the sandwich line, the guy that vigorously swipes our UCards. Where’d he go? Did you get rid of him too just like all of the other good stuff? He was the face of Hamp, are you too cool for him now?
I know I’m not the only one who feels this way. When I’ve been to you I recognize nobody. I have not seen one person that I used to see. You’ve become infested with people who didn’t know the old you, and I’m glad you have fans, but don’t forget about where you came from.
I don’t mean to be rude, Hamp, I just miss you. I’ll still visit you every once in a while to get a change of scenery and so I don’t have to cook for myself, but I may leave feeling disappointed most of the time because I’ll be empty handed, without a cone of chocolate soft serve for the road. I miss you, we all miss you.
Your old and loyal friend,
Samantha
P.S.: At least your new Grab-‘n’-Go is on point. That’s a plus.