“It was for those who forgot their lunch, for those who were simply hungry midafternoon. It was for all of us. Taco Bell saw the needs of the people, and it answered.” — Zoë DiGiorgio

The food court giveth, and the food court taketh away.

It is with great sadness that I reflect on the loss of an important on-campus institution: Stamp Student Union’s Taco Bell has ended Happier Hour. It was a deal too good to be true: a cheap, powerful, fulfilling addiction. For us poor, hungry masses, the oozy, cheesy, faux meat wraps and cheap sugary sodas were manna from heaven.

Last semester was my first living off-campus, a fascinating experiment in responsibility and adaptability requiring much trial and error. Because of the distance to Courtyards and the difficulty of catching a bus, there were many days when I struggled to get in a decent lunch.

While some students may opt to neglect eating during crunch time, I found that it was the perfect time to eat. That rush of sugar provided more energy than any trip to Starbucks could. But without a way to get back to my apartment between classes and with very little money handy, I found myself actually yearning for the days when satisfaction was just a short trip away at the South Campus Dining Hall.

Then I learned the best-kept secret on the campus. The golden ticket to happiness. The solution to my hunger.

Originally, I avoided Taco Bell like the plague. The lowest quality meat available to man slathered in molten cheese with a side of Mountain Dew just seemed so pedestrian compared to the food court’s healthier, relatively upper-crust options.

Now I’m ashamed that I once thought myself superior to it.

It was love at first bite. One taste of a friend’s Loaded Potato Griller was enough for me to understand why people lined up in droves when 2 p.m. rolled around every day. Taco Bell’s Happier Hour was the best deal on the campus. In a world where the McDonald’s Dollar Menu is now the Dollar Menu & More and a McDouble costs more than a dollar, there was a need for yummy yet cheap food for those who didn’t plan their meals in advance. It was for those who forgot their lunch, for those who were simply hungry midafternoon. It was for all of us.

Taco Bell saw the needs of the people, and it answered.

Instead of starving all afternoon until my last class ended, I could buy a filling, tasty snack that would keep me going until I grabbed a Purple Line bus home for dinner. The price couldn’t be beat, either, as one of the few options affordable to those surviving on a few emergency dollars and coins stashed in a book bag. (Looking at you, Saladworks.) In a hectic day full of deadlines and meetings, I was able to take a half-hour break and enjoy the cheesy goodness of a griller or cool down at the end of the week with a refreshing Mountain Dew Freeze.

Happier Hour changed me.

I no longer turned up my nose at the faux-Mexican fast food. In fact, I used to plan afternoon Happier Hour dates with friends. When the Grilled Stuft Nacho came out before winter break, my brother and I made a whimsical late-night pit stop to my hometown Taco Bell, but nothing on the menu seemed as tantalizing (or worth the money) as a $1 Chipotle Ranch Chicken Loaded Griller during Happier Hour.

I will miss the idea of a yummy, cheap snack every time I walk by that purple sign in Stamp. I will feel that slight ache of yearning in my stomach from 2 to 5 p.m. every day. A carefree era in this university’s history has ended.

Sure, the grillers only cost less than $2. But the shadow of what was will forever haunt me as I search for a new backup snack.