Inktober Day 6 prompt- Drooling

Given that I'm pursuing my chartered accountancy course from Chennai post my schooling years and most of my friends are studying in colleges in different cities, a common theme that I've been hearing from all of their rants is the quality of food served in hostels. Staple and simple home made dishes which were often complained about earlier, they now seem to crave with intense yearning. The wonderful friend that I am, I obviously make it a point to rub it into their faces that I continue to enjoy these dishes albeit constantly complaining during meals at home.

A friend of mine, (whom we shall call Zero through the remainder of this piece) studies at Noida and is quite the connoisseur of the culinary arts; their end product, rather than the process itself. He is extremely frank about this and consequently,  in school, his identity came to be associated with all things culinary. We've had several conversations on a vast variety of topics over time, but food is a much frequented one and Zero often envies me when I tell him I'm lunching with curd rice and potato curry. 

There is, however, one feature in Zero's hostel which unfailingly makes me drool every time it's mentioned. It's called the 'Midnight Mess' and I for one, am EXTREMELY indignant about the injustice of it's existence; or lack thereof in my case. I tend to stay up late on most days and since I have dinner at the reasonable hour of half past 8, by the time the clock strikes 12, my insides begin to grumble and churn. Of course, most of my conversations with Zero coincide with this time of day/ night and invariably when he's having a good time at the Midnight Mess. I would not have been half as put off if the food served midnight was half as bad as the other meals that Zero claims are, but apparently, just like how everything becomes a billion times funnier the darker the hour, the food served gets better too! I cannot raid the refrigerator at home during these hours because there usually is nothing to raid, so I'm stuck in a vicious cycle of craving, drooling and gluttony. 

Perhaps another factor that exacerbates my indignance are the many escapades of midnight feasts that I've read about in Enid Blyton's novels as a child. From Malory Towers to St. Claire's, participating in such a feast is portrayed as being a must to complete the boarding school experience! The beautiful articulateness with which Blyton manages to describe the goodies and the fun the girls seem to have planning and during the feast has made me drool many a time, to the point of having to wipe it away from the pages of the book! (This was many years ago, I'm not as disgusting now; hopefully)

In fact, right now, I am quite at the abysmal epicentre of one such cycle and it's getting late, so I had better get going. Thankfully, there is a crate of Greek yoghurt cups stored in the refrigerator today so I think I'm set for the remainder of the night!