The Cafeteria Catastrophe

Hey guys!

So I’m trying to start this new thing where I write about a moment in my day and give it a bit of a fiction twist. Hopefully all of this will lead to me really finding my voice as an author, something I’m really trying hard to find.

That being said, here is today’s moment! :

“Won’t they get mad?” my friend questioned nervously, afraid of the repercussions of our following actions. The actions we thought were trivial, mundane, unimportant, but were actually a radical change in the social order of this complex chaos we called high school.

“I don’t care. I’m done.”

We walked across the room, understanding that all eyes were on us, but also understanding that none of it mattered. That all of this, this nonsense, would fade away soon. That in the end, we were not doing anything that we shouldn’t be able to do. I could feel my friend trembling with the foreboding scent of what we were doing, and what the costs would be. 

We sat down on the other side of the cafeteria, away from the friends we were growing oh so tired of.

Yes, you read that right. This entire, overly dramatic, slightly frustration-inducing moment is about sitting at a different lunch table. Ridiculous, right? Not to high schoolers.

Where you sit and who you sit with matter so much to kids my age. And why? Because certain kids shouldn’t associate or communicate with the other kids who incredulously believe that they are actually better, higher on the stupid triangle of highschool social dynamics, or more important? Because that popular girl with 2K followers doesn’t deserve to deal with the absolute indecency of the manga-lover? That our differences are so great they divide us more than any physical barrier could? How immature is this?

Sure, you could blame it on evolution, the idea that picking groups better suited for your survival is still an instinct ingrained into our very being. But isn’t that the entire point of evolution? To change our ways?

I guess I’m going off on a tangent. As my friend and I sat down, the inquisitors got up. They came to our table. They asked us what was wrong, why we were doing what we were doing, what kind of rebellion we were trying to produce.

They may have been asking us what we were wearing on the Red Carpet. Our friends were taking the role of the press, to act as the messenger between us and our old table, as well as the rest of the school population.

They consoled us, telling us they were still our friends, no matter what. What they didn’t do is listen. Listen to the fact that where you sit to eat shouldn’t be something permanent, and interaction with others is okay. That I wanted to catch up with the friend I didn’t get to speak to very often. That the entire world doesn’t revolve around a nonexistent seating chart. 

With all the problems going on outside the bubble of high school, we forget where we stand in terms of what really matters. There’s so much destruction and chaos out there, even in schools. And yes, there isn’t much we can do to make a change. But where you sit at lunch? It shouldn’t matter. Ever.


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