Eulogy for Qdoba, Cosi, & the Daily Grind
The recent losses of Qdoba, Cosi, and the Daily Grind have impacted us all. Let us reflect upon and remember the ways that they changed our lives for the better.
RYAN GOODMAN // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE
Martyrs and the last bastions of a better era — both titles befitting of the three of you.
Even these words somehow seem insufficient to describe the way you touched my life and the lives of so many others. You left this world before your time, providing a kind of joy that I have not experienced since your early departure. Now, all I feel is an emptiness that no amount of shitty Sadler food will ever be able to fill.
The halls of this place you once called home feel different now. Although looming melancholy fills the void where you once stood, your memory remains with all of those fortunate enough to have crossed your paths.
Qdoba, your hours were unmatched — at least by the standards set by the rest of the establishments at this school. I vividly remember our first encounter and all the late nights we shared. I wish I’d known then how short our time together would be. The sheer quantity of food one could get for their money was simply incredible — the burrito, chips, and queso were more than any human should ever eat in a single meal. It was perfect. Whether cramming for an exam or watching a movie with friends late at night, you were always there for us. Doordashing Chipotle simply cannot compare (not to mention the amount of hurt Chipotle has been inflicting on my poor, poor wallet this semester).
Cosi, you most certainly were not known for your thriftiness, but the exorbitant prices at Lodge 1 frankly disgrace your memory. When I sought shelter from the cold last winter, you were always my first choice. Your food was not only warm but also heated on something other than a heat lamp, surpassing all standards set by this institution. Your soups, especially the tomato basil, were a favorite of mine, and I’m sure of many others.
RYAN GOODMAN // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE
Daily Grind, there are some people and places that just make you feel warm. Not warm in a physical sense, but more so in a feeling of unmatched comfort — I cannot think of a better way to describe how you made people feel. Despite your unusually high volume of customers, your presence was a calming one. You were the perfect place to study or meet with a group of friends; I spent many a Sunday morning doing just that. The movement of your operations to Lodge 1 was insulting, to say the least. The coffee was never what made you special — it was merely a facet of your greatness. If one were to close their eyes and imagine the perfect college coffee shop, you were it. Swemromas is great, but it just isn’t the same. The ambiance isn’t there, at least not anywhere near the same degree. There is no other place on campus that can replace you.
The loss of the three of you, combined with the unexplained absence of the Tribe Truck, has left a massive hole in the fabric of the College community. (My working theory is that the Tribe Truck is unable to return until it has had a chance to finish grieving). Yes, they granted us more dining dollars, acting as if it was a gift from above, but now we don’t have anywhere to go with our newfound “wealth.” Without you — Cosi and Qdoba in particular — the conversation about what vegan and vegetarian students are supposed to be eating on this campus has somehow become even more awkward than it already was.
The weight of your loss is hard to describe in words, but I have done my best.
Just know that we, the students of the College of William and Mary, will always remember and cherish the time we had together.
The world around you has changed so much since your departure. You may be gone, but you will never be forgotten. Your memory will live on forever in the margins of the history of this college as well as in the passing murmurs of students for many years to come.
RYAN GOODMAN // FLAT HAT MAGAZINE