How to pick up a Buff Chick in Orono on a Wednesday

IMG_1007Students on the meal plan here at Maine’s flagship state university have long known what Wednesdays have meant: Buff Chick Wednesday… Buff. Chick. Wednesday. For the uninitiated, Buff Chick Wednesday is the day that buffalo chicken is served for dinner in York Dining Hall. Not in Hilltop. Not in Wells. Only in York.

Buff Chick Wednesday is all about tender, crispy, glorious goodness. You can get your chicken in boneless wing form, without a wrap. Or you can get it in a wrap with your choice of lettuce, cheese, and tomatoes. You like your wraps toasted? Let our friends on the south side of campus throw that sucker on a panini press until it’s the perfect golden brown! You say your palate is a bit more experienced and the subtle yet exhilarating zing from the buffalo chicken is not enough? NO WORRIES. NO BUFFING WORRIES. Spicy buffalo sauce to add on, right there in a squeeze bottle, ripe for the squeezin’.

When I texted “so pumped…buff chick Wednesday” to my girlfriend at another school, she thought for sure I was cheating. But we in Orono know better. Buff Chick Wednesday is why we do what we do. It’s why we wake up for the 8 am classes. It’s why we endure six other days of dining hall “cuisine.” On Buff Chick Wednesday, stoners are on the Dean’s list. On Buff Chick Wednesday, the coldest day of winter is a beach day. Only on Buff Chick Wednesday are all cliques and boundaries destroyed and we become one. And it is magnificent.

Students’ mutual love for Buff Chick Wednesday brings out a sense of unity that is unmatched by the likes of Harry, Ron, and Hermione. But on the day itself the Great Hall that is York turns into “Every man–and woman–for himself.” Tactics for trickery are plotted all year long in hopes of getting the maximum amount of buff chick. I’ve witnessed jocks beckon nerds to stand with them in line so that they could get two wraps without having to get back in the line that inevitably stretches out the door. I’ve seen payoffs for spots in line. I’ve seen women walk in and flirt with men whom they have no interest in, purely for a better place in line to get to the buff chick. It’s dirty play, but you’ve gotta respect the ingenuity.

The look of glee and appreciation that students have when they bite into their long awaited buffalo chicken is something I hope to one day see on my child’s face on Christmas morning. But I know that even if I spoiled a child way beyond my budget he or she could never achieve that level of nirvana. For there is only one Buff Chick Wednesday. And it is sublime.

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