That Someone was Me

“Someone lost their lunch,” I heard. I threw my backpack on and skedaddled as fast as I could. I got out of my row, tripping on my too big tan and floral shoes. I knew I shouldn’t have bought those shoes. My feet were just a tad too small for them. But I thought they were beautiful. Now, I regretted the purchase as I flip-flopped my way out of my afternoon physiology class. I tried hard not to laugh as I remembered the words. I thought back on the last hour and a half of my life. I had been famished. As I sat in class listening to prattle about membrane action potentials I had the brilliant idea to open my lunch. I chomped down my string cheese. I was still hungry. I knew that I could easily solve my hunger problem by opening up and eating my peanut butter and jam sandwich. My mouth watered as I pulled the lid off. I reached in and grabbed the sandwich. I took my first bite. My mouth salivated on the strawberry jam as my teeth sank into the bread I had stolen earlier from a roommate. Pretty soon I was unable to contain myself as I ripped off chunks of the sandwich and stuffed them into my chomping mouth. I thanked the sandwich as I ripped off a piece of the crust. Then I did it. Did my hand spasm? Did I experience an action potential similar to what we were talking about as my neurons synapsed together ending in the tragedy that happened at the end of my fingertips? I had dropped a chunk of my sandwich. I had dropped a sizeable chunk of my sandwich. My stomach groaned. My heart cried. My mind told me to keep a low profile and to ignore my situation. I finished the rest of my sandwich carefully. Between bouts of listening and sleeping I stared at my dropped crust. Maybe I could reach down and pick it up? Maybe I could apply a ten second rule and still eat it? Maybe all my hope was not lost. I was in a tricky position, however, and knew that my attempts at retrieval would be futile. I imagined the poor night janitor, picking up my sandwich in disgust. I vowed that I would retrieve the crust! I continued to sit as my class ended and the room emptied. My classmates had all left, except for the two sitting just in front of me, just to the right of where I had dropped that morsel. I decided that if I slowly crouched down between the rows of stadium seating that I could go undetected. I went for it. I slowly kneeled and pretended to fiddle with my backpack, when in reality I tried to twist and manipulate my body so as to reach down underneath the chairs in front of me where my sandwich remains were located. I felt the desks poking me in the back and knew that I could not do it unless I was in the row in front of me. I glanced up and saw the rude lingerers had not evacuated. I needed to be undetected! I am a 23-year-old woman and the last thing I need is for people to realize that not only do I still eat peanut butter and jam sandwiches for lunch but I drop them in class as well and cannot even retrieve the dropped portion with dignity! I got up. And I swung my backpack on, noticing as I did that I could see the sandwich through the crack of the folded up seat in front of me. Just as I noticed I heard the phrase. Someone lost their lunch. And that someone was me.