Lunch, anyone?

By Eleanor C. '22

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At 12:15 pm on September 5, 2018, a group of high schoolers left The Downtown School campus for the most vital mission of the day: lunch. I know what you are thinking...freshman and sophomores... leaving campus? Shocking, I know, coming from a school where we couldn’t even cross the street alone. Where we ate lunch in our classrooms.

Suddenly, I was leaving campus with nothing but a rumpled twenty dollar bill and two friends.

My stomach was churning -- from hunger and nerves. Sweat beaded on my forehead (hey don’t judge; I’m a teenager) and bravely, I entered a Seattle institution: the Armory.

Upon entrance, my heart stopped with the threat of indecision. At the time, it seemed there were upwards of eight billion choices; so I shamefully reverted to my fallback: I texted my mother. Turns out, she was no help; so I gathered my last shreds of dignity and walked towards the nearest restaurant. Once I reached the counter, I decided I could not possibly leave since it had taken that much willpower to choose a restaurant in the first place. I bravely ordered.

I find it necessary to interject here for clarity’s sake: I am extremely Type A. I love to plan, organize, and I always strive for perfection, so you can imagine my distress at not knowing what to do next. I found myself staring at the smiling face of a person eager to take my order. At what was certainly not my finest moment of the day, I glanced at the menu and ordered the first thing I saw: french fries. Quickly, I was presented with a gargantuan platter of fries and trotted back to my friends who stared at me with shock and hunger. Their surprise faded as they helped me chip away at the fries.

After some thought, I have decided that what my classmates and I are doing by venturing into the city is practicing independence and decision-making -- both key aspects of a well rounded person. I admit that I may have failed day one of our independence practice; however, I have recently been taught that failure is imperative for growth. While I promise never to order french fries for lunch again, I cannot make any promises about getting ice cream from the Molly Moon's vending machine at the KEXP listening lounge.