This is it. Today, the 14th of January, I have vowed to myself to never ever eat at Bayboro Tavern ever again. I know I've gone off on these tangents before, but this time is serious.
I haven't been to the Tavern in months. I always get grossed out by the fact that they don't wear gloves when they assemble my sandwich. I mean, anything could be on your hands.
On the radio the other day, the DJs were talking about a recent study they've done on new clothes. Researchers took cultures from a few items, mainly new sweaters and blouses, then ran some lab tests.
How about there's feces on like everything.
NEW FUCKING CLOTHES. I never want to see one of those black light luminol tests done in a fitting room.
So the Tavern is infamous for their unsanitary process of. . . not being sanitary.
How come nobody says anything? Well, it could be a few reasons.
1. The Bayboro Tavern is the main hubbub of dining on the USFSP campus. They serve anything from sandwich wraps to Nachos Supremos; you could easily eat there a few times a week as a full-time student. Nobody can live off of Chik-Fil-A alone.
2. They serve beer. Uh duuuuuuuuuuuuuuUUUUUUUUUhhh. Who's going to complain about the one place students can go to get crocked before their 6:00 p.m. class. I've even had a professor resume the 2nd half of our Photojournalism class at the Tavern, to discuss the techniques behind ethical shutter speeds over a pitcher.
3. They serve beer. Too buzzed to realize what the fuck is going on behind the counter? We've all seen what I've seen at a 3:00 a.m. trip to Wafflehouse. Of course drunk people wouldn't notice the germ circus spilling out by the waffle irons.
4. Maybe people have and they didn't give a shit (unless it's in the form of particles in between tomato slices).
Last time I ate at the Tavern I think it made me sick. I got sick shortly after; either that night or the next day. Today, I decided to give the place one more shot.
I walk through the entrance and see one person sitting at a table. One employee is washing a dish. One is wiping down the tables. She looks up at me and continues swiping the tabletops. Thanks.
The one wiping tables gets back behind the counter, looks at me like I'm a fucking alien and then asks what I want. I order the usual: Half a roast beef sandwich, a touch of mayo, tomato, extra lettuce.
She grabs the bread with her probably damp hands that are finally free from the burden of the rag. Oh, that rag. The rag that just visited the surface of the 8-something tables. Bacteria from the hands of at LEAST 8 different people. Each table seats more than one, however. I just try to pretend like the pink rag she just threw on the food counter didn't also visit the outside seating area.
She picks up my Pumpernickel bread, peels the roast beef off of the plastic and makes sure to get some fingerprints all over my extra lettuce. The food is pretty good; I'll give them that. I keep telling myself that it's going to be ok.
They even handle your money without an afterthought of cleanliness. Currency is the worst thing you could ever expose your immune system to. That shit could seriously have AIDS on it, aside from common bodily fluids like spit. Or snot. Or ya know, semen.
It's not ok. I ate some of the meat and bread and put the rest back on the counter and walked out. Jesus fucking Christ. ONE PERSON.
There was one person in the whole restaurant. And she couldn't find 30 seconds to even rinse her damn hands off? Squirt sanitizer? Snap on a glove or two? Jump into a tub of Clorox Cleanup Disinfectant Spray because she and the entire staff are the most disgusting human beings on the face of the earth?
They'll be lucky if I even come back for a beer before my 6:00 p.m. night class.
It's a health code violation with a pulse and they don't even have to hide it.
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