As freshman year progresses and you hopefully make a couple friends, you start to order more adventurous options, including but not limited to buffalo chicken pizza or sweet potato fries with honey mustard on the side. You might even establish a routine where you and your friends dial it up on your phones on your way home from a big night out. Once you get back to your dorm, you wolf down every last crumb and, if you're feeling especially ravenous, you dip your fingers in the ranch and ketchup.
I, like most other students, fell into the treacherous routine of pizza delivery by EBAs early on. It wasn't until sophomore summer that I discovered a stunning new alternative. I discovered what I like to refer to as the "physical plant." This is where the raw dough, cheese and tomato sauce becomes pizza and, to my amazement, where great memories can be made.
It was a sweltering Wednesday night in August and my friends and I thought we had exhausted all our options. It was too hot to dance in a basement, but we weren't quite tired enough for bed.
"Let's go to EBAs," suggested a friend, not knowing what she'd started. Before I could say no or pick up the phone, I was marching across the Green, down Main St. and turning right onto a shadowy corner.
I looked up and to my amazement saw an overhang that read "Everything But Anchovies." As I entered the establishment my conceptions of EBAs transformed. It wasn't some figment of the imagination where pizza materialized with the dialing of a number. The front counter reminded me of a space station command center with orders coming in from every corner of campus.
My friends and I slipped into a booth in the back and ordered away: pizza, chicken fingers, sweet potato fries and free water. I was stupefied to find that other students actually went to the physical location. How was this my first time here?
It was an enjoyable moment in my Dartmouth career: I was hanging out with friends, eating pizza and drinking free water. In addition to laughter and all around merry-making, the scene was exciting borderline eye-opening. I observed two boys order a pizza sized for a little league baseball team's end-of-season party. Who knew they were capable of making such big pizzas? To our left sat a group of brace-faced adolescents on a double date (presumably from Hanover High). The place was absolutely popping. With the exception of the dubstep and black lights, we were basically at a club. From that moment on, the EBAs plant would always have a special place in my heart.
I heard about other schools that had late night food spots and was always jealous of my friends who ended their nights at diners, food stands or delis. I would rebut by explaining how it was really awesome that we could order food to our rooms. But after a careful examination of all my late-night eating experiences, they began to strike me as very solitary. Late-night eating had been activity of defeat, as in, "We aren't having that much fun at X-frat so let's just order EBAs and go to bed."
My journey to EBAs changed my perceptions of late-night eating at Dartmouth. The experience of consuming a chicken finger at two in the morning was no longer a mode of surrendering the night. With the discovery of EBAs' campus location, greasy food became a way to hang out with friends and eat in a social setting. EBAs became an alternative social space.
I propose EBAs acquire a blitz account under the code name "Epsilon Beta Alpha" and blitz out when the cheese pizza is fresh out of the oven. From now on, when your friends ask you where you're headed to at one in the morning on a Saturday night, tell them "Epsilon Beta Alpha" because it's the new hip spot.
If you trek to the physical location you are not only nourishing your hunger and satiating your thirst with free water, you are making joy and merriment with friends. While you will still awaken the next morning with a bad taste in your mouth and a lighter wallet, you will have memories to last a lifetime, enhanced calcium levels from the cheesy fries and possibly, some new friends.
Just last week my friend and I paid a visit to the physical location. As we entered EBAs it was bumpin' as usual, but we managed to get the last booth in the place. Over the two hours we spent hanging out and eating, I talked to some friends and also met some new people. A group of '17s sitting in the adjacent booth told me they liked coming to EBAs because it was "a good way to hang out with people and get to know your floor."
Meeta Prakash '13 told me that it was "a thing for alumni to come back and hang out at EBAs."
The combination of space, cleanliness and food makes it an ideal alternative to what nightlife normally offers.
"EBAs is the perfect place to eat late at night because it's the only place open and you can go with a big group of friends," Emily Uniman '15 said.
I'm thrilled to have found a nice social space to hang out and talk with friends and other randos and actually hear what they are saying. You don't have to fake a smile and nod because you literally can't hear their voice over Avicii's newest hit.
