Cafeteria

I stop by the school cafeteria. There is no line, but little time to eat. I grab one of the hard, greenish yellow plastic trays, and a fork, knife, and spoon, as well as a half-pint cardboard container of milk from an oversized gray, boxy freezer. I give the gray-haired lady by the freezer some money for lunch, and continue. They have run out of the main entree, something that they call goulash. Instead, I am stuck with beets, a roll and a pat of butter, and something called kale. This last item on the menu used to be a green, leafy veggie, but has been soaked in water, steamed, and so pickled with salt that it is almost inedible.

Beggars can't be choosers, I guess. The school cafeteria is filled with long tables with hard, round plastic seats attached to them at their base. Each table seats about twelve, but fortunately, most are empty or nearly empty at this point. I bolt down the beets and the roll, take a few nibbles at the kale and give up, and then drink my milk. Just as I finish, the bell rings for the end of the recess. I dump the kale into a large wastebasket, and put away the tray and stainless steel silverware. Time to go to my afternoon class.

My next class is

1. chemistry.
2. English.

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