The Bad Guy

Tuesday, November 22nd

Sat with: Clique #26
Accompanied by: Steph

Table #26 mixes everybody together. Everybody seems to be able to point out #26 as "the trench coat guys", even though I think there were about two people with trench coats sitting there. The table is always packed. There's a blend of girls and boys from all different backgrounds and grades. The only thing we found that united them all was a love for the game "Ninja".

Conversation:
Steph: Lauren! Over here! I got us a seat!
Me: Hey, everybody.
Allie: Hi Lauren. (Weird look #1)
Me: Your table's so exclusive. We've been trying to get a seat for a week now.
(Allie laughs)
Steph: It's true! I thought we'd have to buy trench coats to be accepted into the-
(Steph falters under a gab to the ribs)
Me: So, how are you?
Allie: Oh, I'm fine. I have a test in Spanish next period. Oh, actually, I should be studying. Do either of you take Spanish?
Steph: . . . No, sorry Allie.
Allie: That's okay- hang on . . .
(Allie pulls a pack of flashcards from her backpack and asks the girl next to her to quiz her. Steph oogles.)
Me: What?
Steph: I'm a little freaked out.
Me: What? The fact we were conversing about a Spanish assignment or the fact these kids study for tests during lunch?
Steph: A little bit of both.

After lunch, Steph and I followed the clique out into the hall where we played a game of "Ninja". It was more fun than we thought it would be, for sure.We received plenty of looks, but mostly from passers by in the hall way. To top it off, we signed up for the Word of the Week and Steph helped me study for my history test. After lunch period, I told Steph:
"I think we've ruined our reputations more times than we can count."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, one day we're sitting with eighth grade cool kids, and everybody thinks we've decided we hang out with them, and then we're sitting on the floor and then we're playing 'Ninja'. I don't think anybody knows what to think, you know?"

Conclusion: I remember playing games with my friends when I was eight, games where you could become invisible and never die, and the bad guy could turn into anything he wanted. As probably the first debate of my life, I tried to explain to everyone that if this bad guy could turn into anything, he had to have a shape that he was forced to change back to. Otherwise, I said, he wasn't anything; he was nothing, because he just took other people's looks and didn't have his own. They didn't listen to me.
In case my very stressed metaphor was not clear, I'm "the bad guy" of the lunch room.