Things Lunch Ladies Take Personally

In a previous blog, I mentioned that I went four years without paying for a school lunch. I also shared that when the change I’d collected wasn’t enough for the snack bar, my backup plan was the actual school lunch—already paid for by my parents.

That’s where the lunch lady came in.

Her name might have been Barbara. And we had what you could call a “special” relationship.

Before I go any further, a few important disclaimers:

Yes, some of the things I said were rude.
No, they were not said with disrespect.
Yes, consequences were applied.
No, I never argued them.

Every comment ended the same way: me being sent to the back of the line, both of us smiling, and me saying, “Yes ma’am.” Honestly, I’m a little surprised I got away with it for as long as I did.

Also—for the record—I do not believe she (or any cafeteria worker) ever spit in food, added hair, fingernails, or other foreign objects. This was all clearly in good fun and understood by both parties.

Let me set the stage.

I’d walk into the lunch line, usually after checking my pockets to see if snack-bar dreams were dead for the day. Teachers would sometimes cut in line. That never really bothered me—though it bothered everyone else. On days a teacher cut in front of me, I usually gave Barbara a break.

Other days, though, I’d smile big and say:

“Good afternoon… (insert line of the day)”

The line would laugh.
Barbara would shake her head.
And I’d hear the familiar response:

“Eat it or don’t. It’s up to you. Back of the line.”

Fair enough.

Things Lunch Ladies Take Personal

• (When spaghetti was served, always the day after chili)
  “Is this spaghetti sauce just yesterday’s leftover chili?”
• “Can I have extra ____ but hold the fingernails?”
• “How much hair did you lose preparing this feast?”
• “Is your hairnet custom fitted, or does it come straight from a box?”
• “These carrots look suspicious to me.”
• “Are you sure that’s not a booger in those peas?”
• “That Band-Aid on your finger isn’t instilling a lot of confidence right now.”
• “How many hairs are you allowed to leave in the food before the health department gets involved?”
• “I’m pretty sure these Sloppy Joes came from the Ag Farm.”
• “Can I have extra gravy—but no spit, please?”
• “Is that chicken-fried steak, or a shingle from your house?”
• “Have you changed your hairnet since last Thursday?”
• “Do you really use that gigantic mixer back there? If so… what for?”
  (Still sent to the back of the line. Legitimate question. Those mixers are HUGE.)
• “How many dead bodies can you fit in that freezer back there?”

She earned bonus points for her response on that one:

“I’ve got room for one more.”

I didn’t have to go to the back of the line until I replied that I’d make lousy hamburger meat.

I’m sure I said other things. These are just the ones I remember.

If you had the pleasure of standing in the lunch line with me in high school and remember something I said, feel free to share.
Or don’t.
Barbara probably remembers enough for all of us.