That's Just How They Do it

It was my first day at the new prep school on the outskirts of Roanoke, Virginia.  It was the third time we’d moved in four years, but dad was doing well at his job and we could afford nice things including a private education.  This was my first time going to a school where I didn’t have to wear a uniform, but when I got there, everyone was dressed in some type of white top and brown skirt or pants or shorts.  I told the girl in my class that I thought there wasn’t a dress code and she said there wasn’t, but that’s just what they all did.  Her name was Mandy and she grew up here, as did most of the other kids, so I figured I’d just be wearing white and brown from now on.

Mandy took me to lunch and it was a madhouse – really disorganized with kids darting from station to station to get food, but it all looked pretty good.  I asked Mandy why there were no lines and she said that was just the way it was done, so grab something to eat…forks and spoons are at the end of the counter.  I grabbed a chicken pot pie, a cup of soup, and a water, and found the bin of plasticware, just all utensils thrown in there with no separation and figured, that’s just how they do it. 

I ate my meal with Mandy and some other kids and they were all really nice, but when we went to throw our trash away, Mandy said, "Just wipe off your fork and spoon and put it back in the bin where you got it so someone else can use it."  I must have looked like I was going to throw up, because she shrugged and said, “That’s just how we do it here.”

 

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