Line-leader

I was a very self-conscious as a young child. I pretended to be excited about it (everybody else seemed to be, it was treated like a privilege, respected like a privilege) but I didn't like being line-leader when it was my turn. Sure, I'd been to the cafeteria or the library a million times before, and sure the teacher was right there so I couldn't get too far out of line, but still: I have very distinct memories of line-leading at Peirce Elementary School with my stomach churning. Past the library. Into the cafeteria. Oh man, I've brought my lunch which means I have to just walk past the line and go in. But I'll be first into the eating area. I don't know what table to sit at. Where will my friends want to sit? I want them there already. I should pretend that I'm buying lunch today. No, Mom would be upset if I spent money when I brought a lunch. Too late anyway at this point. Okay, I'll just go in. Walk slowly.

The agony was very short-lived. Nothing ever went poorly, and I'd sit down with a nice lunch and then go out to play. But I still didn't like it. Nobody knew that I didn't like it, but I liked following.