Temple University - Templar Yearbook (Philadelphia, PA)

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Food for thought: Portrait of a teenage food-aholic As I walk up the subway steps every morning, my nostrils delight in the aroma of Roy Rogers ' breakfast. As I make my way down Montgomery Ave- nue, eggs and bacon fry on the grills of the multi-colored trucks. Bagels . . . cof- fee . . . sausage . . . english muffins . . . they all tempt me, but I resist. As I enter SAC, my eyes immediately dart to the Pre-Law Society ' s Donut Sale. I close my eyes, hold my breath, and walk by fast. Again, I am caught up in breakfast smells — this time drifting out of Hardee ' s. I quickly dash up the back stairs and safely into the yearbook office. I silent- ly meditate, preparing myself for my next class. I have to walk past the ven- dor ' s pad on 13th St. Just when I think I am ready, a wave of hunger overcomes me. I wait. It subsides. I walk down the stairs of SAC to the ground floor to avoid Hardee ' s. Re- membering that I need graph paper for my economics class, I stop in the book- store. Before I can get through the turn- sti les, my body is drawn to the food counter. Candy bars . . . popcorn . . . sunflower seeds . . . soda . . . chewy granola . . . they all call my name. I run out the door. Right before I leave SAC, I take a deep breath. As I walk up the steps, I ' m con- fronted with it — that conglomeration of smells — everything from eggrolls to enchiladas, souvlaki to salad, fried chicken to chicken curry, and pizza to pastrami. They are all there — the yel- low truck, the green, the red, the Chi- nese trucks, the Mexican trucks, the hot dog stands, the pizza trucks and the pretzel ladies. I hold my breath and try to think about my first class in Annenberg Hall. I get to class a little late and have to take the last seat. The guy on my right is de- vouring an apple, the girl on my left is munching a tuna salad on wheat with lettuce and tomato, and my professor is sipping on a cup of coffee. It is a warm day, and the windows are open. The smell of the mobile cuisines seeps into the room. After a seemingly endless time, class is over. I quake, real- izing that it is lunchtime. Gaining my composure, I decide to walk Broad Street to avoid the vendor-lined 13 Street. Mistake! I am greeted by the golden arches, Blimpie ' s, Owl ' s Nest, New Station, Wendy ' s, and again, Roy ' s. It ' s useless, I think to myself. Losing total self-control, I rush from truck to restaurant to stand to machine. With thirty-six bags filled with fried rice, cheese steaks with everything, pretzels with mustard, chilidogs, pizza, roast beef specials, cinnamin-raisin bagels, M M ' s, ice cream, salad . . . I know that I have a problem. Admit- ting it is half the battle. Yes ... I am a food-aholic. Some students can ' t get through the day without one of Philadelphia ' s famous pretzels. Above, students ine up at Dottie and Josie ' s pretzel stand. Watcha havin ' , baby? is a common expression of many vendors. 26 Food

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At top is a collage of the year ' s record albums and magazine covers. Another B-52 ' s fan stands in McGonigle Hall waiting for Translator, the warm-up band, to come on stage. One of the fads that continued from last year was walk- mans. Students were tuning out their classes and tuning in their favorite music. Fads and Fashions 25

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-fr l OFFE ipTcJ Students wait for their orders from trucks parked in the 13th St. vendor ' s pad. - - here ' s a look at the inside of a truck. Relish? Mustard? Sauerkraut? Hot dogs at 75c are a great meal on the run in between classes. Food 27