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Come for the pitchers, stay for the pizza—or something like that. Hawkeye’s doesn’t really impress in either department (unless you like your Miller lite and your pies plain), but when you’re rolling deep in a pack of Phi Kappa Psis out on the prowl and you’ve managed to catch the eye of one of the well-endowed waitresses, it doesn’t really matter what she’s carrying to your table, now does it?