You had such a routine weekly meal pattern, and I loved you for it. Every Friday before you’d hit the town with your dance society, you’d order in a takeaway; a takeaway which you always pre-paid for online before it arrived at the door.
Whether it was a prawn korma with mushroom rice and a garlic naan (which is conveniently now my favourite), or a succulent chicken kebab with chilli sauce, you’d be keen to have food for when you got out of your room from getting ready.
That was of course until the dinners miraculously disappeared before your eyes, never to be seen again… Or at least that’s what I wanted you to think.
I used to listen to you giving the shops an ear bashing on the phone as I scoffed my way through the silver trays of delight. You’ll never understand how much better they tasted for free.
One time, I even heard you pattering up the hall getting extremely close to my room, so I immediately launched the remaining rubbish out of the window, only for it to land on the bottom flat’s doorstep. I have never felt so alive.
What started off as me being a sole minded, hungry student, then lead to a tactful and investigative blue print plan for stealing takeaways. I became a genuine master for getting a free meal and after the first couple of weeks, I even snuck into the fridge to steal a cider to wash the food down with whilst you were in the shower.
There was no reason behind the whole scheme; it was just a kick for me. My belly over took my mind, food became my life and ultimately, you were the victim of my cravings.
So, nearly a year on since halls life, I’d just like to say I’m sorry. I’m not sorry for the deliciousness I indulged into, but sorry for taking your meals from right under your nose. It’s no wonder you stopped pre-paying for food online, so I guess I owe you a pizza… or ten.
Regards, Anonymous.
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