Food Review Mackey Arena *

Some have questioned why Mackey Arena at Purdue can't sell out anymore after over a decade of packed houses. To that I stare back as my stomach lurches, and query how they still pull in 13,000 nightly with the atrocious alimentation available? Where to begin...!

Upon arriving, diners are herded like cattle through gates and required to show a ticket to very old men wearing matching tacky gold and black uniforms. The cost to even enter this establishment is over $20, and most pay a yearly membership to "John Purdue's Club" to ensure prime seating. Why anyone would pay extra for "better" seating in this filthy over-glorified concrete barn is beyond me! Every seat is the same; uncomfortable, hard, and around more old people. And did I mention there's no seat back? (Shudder) Don't even ask about silverware or a table.

After being entertained for almost an hour by a charming game of baskethoop, patrons file out into a concourse where they wait in line to order the food. By this point, it was 8:00 P.M., and I must say I was famished... hungry enough to eat a metaphorical horse.

If only.

Instead I was served a supposed "hot" dog wrapped in a stale, uninspiring pathetic excuse for a baguette, a plastic tin of salted crisps with neon-yellow dipping cheese, a cold, oversized pretzel with the taste and texture of a decade-old salted cardboard box, overly salted popcorn lathered in a coat of faux-butter, eight miniature Butterfingers bars (that I had to open MYSELF!), and a Coke with faint traces of ice (that I noticed in my lap after bringing the cheap cup to my face and realizing that the lid--- yes, they have lids at this restaurant [sic]--- wasn't snapped on.).
Total Outlay: $17

And did I mention the hapless service? (restaurant critic rereads above transgressions and confirms that he did not, in fact, mention the service) Ahem. After reading up on the State of Indiana's Labor Codes, I shall be sending notice henceforth to the mayor of the municipality of West Lafayette to notify him of dozens of horrific counts of child labor violations.

Please allow me to describe the young lad who took my order... Eight years old.

In the event that isn't enough to disgust even the least demanding of diners, I'll go into more detail. The food counter stood nary an inch above my belly button, and he was a good six inches shorter than that. What he possessed in enthusiasm for the job and effort in counting my money, he lacked in math skills (I was shorted $2 in change; I considered it the tip) and the ability to reach the Butterfingers. Luckily, his mom was available to help. And when I inquired as to the locale of the Grey Poupon, he had the gall to direct me towards the restroom, with grim order to, "Poop in there."

To the lavatory I went, obediently and gladly. Whilst there, I deposited my food right into the trashcan, washed away any germs acquired in hand-to-hand dealings with l'enfant, and proceeded to drive myself straight to the fine, classic, culinary restaurant Monical's Pizza where I cry myself back to happiness through the sweet gluttonous satisfaction found in a pepperoni pizza and Mr. Pibb.

Rating: *

Mackey Arena

1000 North University Street
West Lafayette, IN 47907

765-494-3194

Open: Game Nights

Entree prices: $3- $3.50

Credit cards: None accepted, cash only

Reservations: Required

Noise: Conversation-unfriendly. Shout to be heard.