Lunches

I tend to reminisce about lunch. If I had the means, I would love to go eat lunch at all of the following places:

• The lunchroom of my junior high
• The 2nd floor hallway of my high school in Idaho
• The lunchroom of my high school in Europe
• The dorm cafeteria of my college
• Old Chicago, my old stomping ground
• The kitchen of my quad apartment from my upperclassmen years
• The kitchen of my best friend's dad's old house
• Hot Cake House in Portland at 1 a.m.

Some of these are easy. Hot Cake House, for one. The "dorm cafeteria" doubles as a functioning restaurant, and I don't think it's changed all that much. If I went back to Europe for any significant amount of time, I'm sure it'd be easy to eat there as well.

I can't really go back to eating on the floor of my high school, and I think they'd frown on me hanging out at the Junior High. Obviously, my apartment and my friend's dad's house have been sold to other people; even if I randomly ended up eating at the new tenants' residence, it would be indistinguishable. Similarly, I actually tried going back to Old Chicago, but it was totally remodeled, and anyway, the whole appeal was being on a first name basis with literally the entire staff, all the way up to the owner (who has since sold the joint).

It seems like a silly thing to reminisce about, but I get all emotional just writing about it, and to this day I have dreams, where I walk down those gray stairs into the basement of my school, take a left into the little dining hall, and put my money down in that little window that goes to the kitchen, and they hand me my macaroni and half tea/half sugar, and I walk to the back table and pull out my math book and work on my homework.

Sounds like a dreadful thing to dream about, doesn't it? Well, it so happens that I got a bout of insomnia the last couple days, and you know how I fixed it? I laid in my bed, and pictured that little dining hall in my mind. Within half an hour, I was asleep and on my way there.

So I guess I can go back.