"Fine, but be back by the bell," my 12th-grade yearbook advisor would say after he’d written us passes to leave school grounds when we weren’t technically allowed to. He’d say we needed to go get craft supplies or something.
“And here’s three bucks,” he’d add. “Get me corn fritters.”
It would be 2pm, we’d have skipped lunch, and with empty stomachs and full hearts, we’d hop in the car and head to Roll-N-Roaster.
Unless you live in Sheepshead Bay, Roll-N-Roaster is basically on the other side of Brooklyn. It’s a 15-minute drive from my old high school, Edward R. Murrow in Midwood, and an hour and 16 minute train ride from Williamsburg -- the actual other side of Brooklyn. (That’s a $50 uberX, just to put it into perspective.) But the car ride is one of the best parts -- the anticipation building with every red light you hit. In 2009 (the year we were seniors in high school), we’d throw on the radio and belt Taylor Swift’s “Love Story” at the top of our lungs. Young and wild and free… and on a quest for roast beef.