Put yourself in my navy blue Converse. Today is a Monday. I’m saddled with a backpack that makes me feel like a camel, loaded with brick-like books and I go to school knowing I have the rest of this whole long week still in front of me. Being an adolescent, I am constantly hindered with insomnia. From staying up late to finish all my homework, sleep deprivation causes me to forget to make my lunch. So unfortunately, my famished stomach compels me to fork out the babysitting cash as I embark on a sluggish quest to the cafeteria.

To add more to my blatant misery, the lunch line is bending around the cafeteria in a deliriously long, psycho zigzag. Just when I think it can’t possibly get any worse—two shorties cut me in line.

For a fleeting moment, I ponder the possibility of asking these two freshman boys to please leave! Considering that I lumber over them like the Empire State building, it could work. Maybe.

Occasionally they turn around and look at me stupidly, as though they are trying to rub in the fact that they have just cut me in line. Despite my greatest efforts to shoot them venomous glares, it just isn’t in me. I can’t help thinking everyone in the cafeteria will probably notice and say, “Hey, look at that tall angry girl glaring at those poor defenseless little boys, with demonic eyes. Those poor boys must be terrified!” Besides, it’s no big deal. Getting upset over two moronic cutters in the lunch line is just as bad as crying over spilled milk. It’s pointless, impractical, and a waste of my energy.

By the way, don’t get me wrong and assume that I’m prejudiced against freshman just because there’s a couple blips. I understand some freshmen are completely adequate. Some are even acceptable—in that “Look at me! I just smashed a plastic water bottle! I’m so cool!” kind of way. If you’re into that sort of thing, I won’t question your taste.

But the long wait in line is just so irksome; I have resolved to never buy lunch at school again. It’s simply not worth it. Who needs the aggravation?

However, our school is constantly suffering from this bad economy. Losing business can be bad for everyone, financially speaking. That’s why I propose we segregate the freshman from the rest of the student population, only in the lunch line. All upperclassmen really need is 15 minutes alone with the cafeteria, and then the frenzy of freshman may beam down from their spaceships.

Of course, the school board may need some convincing to listen to our commands—er, requests. In order to ensure that the cafeteria serves upperclassmen some justice, I suggest all intelligent individuals boycott the cafeteria and draw attention to its lack of organization. Seniority rules when it comes to class choosing, so why not here? All I want is a little biased preference demonstrated towards upperclassmen concerning food distribution. Is that so much to ask for?