Why should this 3C lunch be different than any other 3C different lunch? On this lunch Billy Beamer sat with us.
It started off like a typical 11:30 meal. I got my spicy popcorn chicken, put some extra fries in my fry basket, and went to my favorite cashier register. I sat down, commented on how miserable the White Sox were playing and complained about the half point my teacher refused to give me because she couldn’t read my handwriting. Then, something happened that would never be forgotten in the annals of awkward history: the Beamer sat with my posse.
You could tell he wasn’t sure where he wanted to sit. He constantly looked around at the tables, walking closer and closer to the door, which was simply not an option (as he probably would be full on body tackled for taking food out of the lunchroom). He walked back and picked up some more napkins, undoubtedly a rouse to look once again for a table. We accidentally made brief eye contact. He started to approach. I looked around to see if anyone could fill up the last seat at our eight man octagonal table. Nobody. I knew I should have chosen the rectangular six-man table.
“Is anybody sitting there?” Beamer asked, pointing to a seat now occupied with my backpack. I replied, “No.” There was a long pause, similar in awkwardness to the moment of silence that was present for much of homeroom last year. The Beamer responded, “Can I sit there?” Before I could say anything, Danny said, “Sure dude.” The deed was done.
With all eyes on Beamer, he said, “You see the Sox game last night. I can’t believe they blew it!” I muttered, “Didn’t notice.” Another pause. The Beamer mumbled, “Oops, I forgot to fill up my water bottle. I save ten cents by using the same water bottle every day. This one is two years old!” As he left and filled up his water bottle, while also receiving the mistrustful eye of a security guard, the conversation picked up to a flurry. “Did you see that home made PB and J.” “Yeah bro, it was gross” “He smells like axe and the boys locker room.” “He probably just had gym.” “What are we going to do, this is so awkward?” “Can this go on my college app as community service?” “Shut up man, he is coming back.”
“Where are you guys all going?” asked the Beamer as the table quickly mobilized. All at once, everyone said something different. “The math lab, the court yard, the bathroom, I’m wandering, the deans again, waiver!” And then we were gone, with poor Billy left to pick up the trays we left. Oh well. Tomorrow is a new day. A 34 day in fact. And on 34 days I have E lunch. Nobody eats at E lunch, especially not Billy.
