- Erin Duane ’20
Young, innocent, awkwardly short, a freshman clings to their paper triangle that holds their pizza as they take a courageous step forward. Glancing to the left and to the right, they see no danger, but they are wrong. A woman, maybe a teacher…No! A senior enters the cafeteria. Fear strikes the freshman as the girl parades aimlessly towards the cereal. She casually twists the handle and fills her bowl with Fruit Loops. Grabbing milk on her way, the senior heads towards the checkout line, but not towards the back of it.
The freshman takes a sharp inhale as the senior “sees her friend up front” and “isn’t cutting but just saying hey.” The freshman can barely take the anxiety, the fear, the absolute outrage. As the senior scans her barcode carelessly, the freshman sets down her pizza, walks to the side of the cafeteria, and exits. The freshman was never seen again inside the walls of Koenig. This would be a RIP to the freshman who starved to death, but rather it is a RIP to the upperclassmen being allowed to cut in line. It was convenient while it lasted, kind of like the Morman Lot.
