More like the AllerGAY of the Cave
It’s 2016 – everyone knows Plato is so fake deep, he’s practically an edgy fourteen year old girl with a myspace. What Plato is trying to get across in The Allergory of the Cave is that we’re all poor, shacked prisoners to our own senses and basically – we’re all as dumb as
shit. One of the prisoners eventually frees himself, and he’s brave enough to explore the actual world and realize that we’re all mistaken and we should never see the world as it appears. Plato, with his entire head up his ass, makes this dude a metaphor for your average philosopher.
We’ve all been in a cave before. I once went to a cave in Cuba and stuck my hand in the gross cave water – it was so worth it. That’s a physical cave though, and we’re supposed to write about a time where we’ve had the same realization as the freed prisoners in the cave. But instead of finding the real world outside, I found solace in Red Robin, and its bottomless seasoned fries.
I was blind before, wandering around in a bleak, bottomless fries-less world. Like any other fool I had previously thought the world had shown me all its wonders already, and my life was stripped of value, meaning, or fun. Like some of you are right now, I was a prisoner in the cold, hard shackles of limited fries. I would have stayed that way forever, stuck in limited fry purgatory, if one of my friends hadn’t suggested that we go for food at 10pm. Most places, shying away from the demographic of “very sad and hungry teenager girls” had already closed – but Red Robin kept its ruby red gates open. The server welcomed us with open arms and the overwhelming scent of burger grease. I had never felt true love and compassion until that moment.
We sat down and ordered – my friend ordered a burger and we got chicken wings to share. A booklet lay in front of us, slyly advertising “bottomless” fries. Since I’m a millennial, and I believe in my heart that I can accomplish anything, we make a pact to see if these fries are really, truly bottomless. We tell our server of our plans and he laughs, underestimating the power of hungry teenage girls. Five minutes later, he drops a burger and a massive, fresh plate of fries on the table. Five plates and one hour later, we were enlightened. The days of limited fries were behind us, and a shiny, slightly greasy future lay ahead of us.