Locusts attack!

So I walked to the nearest Subway, which is on campus in a busy cafeteria environment. The university I work at (like many universities across this great land) holds what seems to be a plethora of camps for youngsters; sports camps, cheerleading camps, and camps like Boys State and Girls State, places for young politicians to hone their lying skills. (Actually, that's not what it's for--they teach government procedure and such, but I like the politicians thing better).

As I'm walking into the building, I see lots of girls who are either much shorter (cheerleaders) or much taller (volleyball players) than me; all are skinnier and much louder. I make my way to the Subway, and lo and behold, all of the kids have decided to eat fresh. I guess I should be happy that young children are choosing sandwiches over pizza or hamburgers, but do they have to do that during MY lunch break? The line at Subway goes past the restaurant next door, and I feel sorry for the guy standing at the register watching us all wait to be served by his competition. I didn't get my food until 20 minutes later.

I write this blog for two reasons. One, to profess my love for that Subway, the only place where I'll stand in a god awful line with obnoxious stick insect girls for 20 minutes. Two, to tell all the obnoxious stick insect girls that may be reading this to go somewhere else and leave the good stuff to the grown-ups. You may be taller than me, but I weigh more than you. I think I have the odds.