The REAL High School Survival Guide

Humorist Kevin Lawson is back in the nostalgia saddle, and this time he has High School on his mind. From joining the marching band to cramming for exams to working the fast food circuit, Lawson has compiled a helpful survival guide for the Gen Zs and Gen Alphas, and an awkward backward glance for the rest of us. You can thank him later.



From "Cafeteria-Grade Adventures"



You ever walk into a high school cafeteria and think, "Wow, this is the pinnacle of fine dining?" Yeah, me neither. I mean, the moment you step in, it's like entering a culinary battlefield. You've got the smell of mystery meat wafting through the air, mingling with whatever they're calling pizza that day. Seriously, I once saw a slice of pizza that looked like it had been through an existential crisis. It was a sad little triangle, barely holding itself together. I half expected it to start reciting poetry about lost toppings.



And then there's the lunch lady. Now, I don't know if she's a trained professional or a secret agent sent to keep us from eating anything remotely nutritious, but she's out there, slinging mashed potatoes that look like they were made from the last surviving potato on Earth. I swear, I've seen her wield a ladle like a sword, ready to defend her territory against anyone who dares ask for extra gravy. "Extra gravy? You think this is a five-star restaurant? You get one scoop, and that's it!"



You ever notice how the food has a personality? Like, the green beans are always that weird kid in the back of the class, just sitting there, ignored. Nobody wants to touch them. It's like they're the social outcasts of the cafeteria. Meanwhile, the chicken nuggets are the popular kids, strutting around in their crispy coats, getting all the love. "Oh, look at me! I'm shaped like a dinosaur! I'm so cool!" And there's that one kid who's always trying to get the attention of the nuggets, but they just won't give him the time of day. He's stuck with the green beans, and you can see the heartbreak in his eyes.



And the trays! Why are those trays designed like they were made for a Tetris tournament? You've got your mashed potatoes in one compartment, your jiggly fruit cup in another, and then there's that slice of pizza trying to escape its fate. It's like a game of Jenga, except if you mess up, you don't just lose; you end up with a lap full of spaghetti. And don't even get me started on the milk. Is it just me, or does it taste like it was harvested from a cow that only drank soda? I mean, who thought, "Let's serve chocolate milk that's more chocolate than milk?" It's like drinking a candy bar, and you can feel your teeth screaming for mercy...