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The Daily Tar Heel
You Asked for It

You Asked for It: In which we mourn Sakura and examine alternate walks of shame

<p>Drew Goins and Kelsey Weekman</p>
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Drew Goins and Kelsey Weekman

Kelsey Weekman (met Kevin Bacon, the Sprouse brothers and the Spelling Bee guy this summer) and Drew Goins (went to the beach once or twice) are the writers of “You Asked for It,” UNC’s premier (only!) satirical advice column, which runs weekly in The Daily Tar Heel and offers online extras via its blog on the DTH website. Results may vary.

You: What do I do when my favorite Franklin Street restaurant closes?

YAFI: It seems like just days ago that we had to bid goodbye to everyone’s favorite, quesolicious Franklin anchor.

Now, we join again to mourn the loss of Sakura because life is cruel and not even shrimp sauce is sufficient balm for our wounds. How eateries like Qdoba and Sakura pass on beyond us while places like Subway and Asia Cafe — which has carpeting, y’all — live to see each new morning is an injustice we may never understand.

But despite the impression every professor gives off, Chapel Hill still operates under the mores of capitalism — restaurants close.

We must forge on. It’s what founder Bob R. Sakura himself would want.

Find comparable food. Luckily, Sakura’s hibachi chicken won’t go the way of calzones (Campus Calzones), pitas (Pita Pit) and more (Chopsticks & More), but the bereaved are not oft so lucky.

If it’s generic Asian fare you seek, raid the freezer of any senior boy learning to cook for himself for a stockpile of P.F. Chang’s bag entrees.

But like the earth to the earth, or Pepper’s Pizza to Sup Dogs, life goes on, and one day we shall rejoice in the land of milk and discount Japanese.

You: Any tips to make the walk of shame a little less shameful?

YAFI: There is a lot of shameful walking in college, but Kelsey’s grandma is on Facebook and doesn’t like debaucherous content, so we’re gonna talk about the auxiliary ones.

The mass exodus of downtrodden students from Davis to the Undergraduate Library just before 2 a.m. every night rivals that of the Israelites from Egypt (The eighth plague was annotated bibliographies.).

Leave a little early to beat that otherworldly announcer’s voice, telling you to flee the library before the ghosts of those who perished in the Davis elevators begin to roam.

Gather an impressive collection of vending machine snacks. Sure, it’s going to be a long night, but could you get a honey bun or a tube of sunflower seeds anywhere else? No, and you wouldn’t want to. But food will dispel shame, always. Liz Lemon-certified.

A bid-less walk home from sorority bid day can also be a trial. You must proudly hold your own surrounded by heavily perfumed, yelping females who have just found their families forever. Simply scream louder than them, uttering a primal shriek that endures all the way from the quad back to your dorm.

The running and shrieking of bid day is second only to that of Humans vs. Zombies. For the embarrassing trek home after a failed kill or the embarrassing trek home after a successful kill, take off your bandana and use it to wipe away your nerd shame and obscure your face.

All this shame can drive you to the rock bottom of campus, but avoid this place: The walk to anywhere from late-night Wendy’s is the most treacherous of them all.

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