Ladies and gentlemen, the stories you are about to read about El Rancho are actually true. The names have been removed to protect the innocent and save dignities.
There’s a little, unwritten tradition at Mizzou after leaving the bars when they close, and that friends, is going to El Rancho. Nothing compares to those greasy, cheesy, Chicken Fajita Nachos when you stumble into this little authentic Mexican restaurant on East Broadway. The aroma of booze and sounds of college students happily slurring their words is unmatched anywhere around the Columbia area.
In the morning, even if you don’t remember going to El Rancho, you will find cheese under your fingernails and stains on your shirt from the night before. We set out to ask students about some of their best/worst experiences at El Rancho. This is what they had to say:
“Last time I was there, my girlfriend applied for a job, had an interview and got the job, and didn’t know it until they called the next morning.”
“So we’re walking down Broadway to Rancho, and I see two guys walking towards us. They had white Styrofoam containers so when they were near us I yelled ‘EL RANCHOOO!’ As they passed me, one of them punched me right in the gut. It didn’t hurt but I had to stop walking to process what had just happened.”
“Went to El Rancho once last year and two of my friends got jumped, then someone smashed the front window with a rock.”
The stories of El Rancho will be passed on from generation to generation, a place where you go to turn a great night into a legendary one. Whether you remember your trips to “Rancho” or someone tells you what happened later down the road, one thing will remain, and that is the stains on your shirt (or your bed), and in your heart.
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