Wednesday, June 23, 2004


I was rifling through some of my old notebooks and forgot to post this absolutely classic run-in between two groups of high school tour groups in the Union Station food court from a few weeks ago. I think I have certifiably seen my first instance of an individual or group being “served” or at least almost being “served.”

I’ll set the stage for the showdown.

Two groups of white suburban high schoolers, mixed with males and females. In one group, subjects were wearing matching teal t-shirts that read “Avery H.S. DC ’04.” This group was milling about in the heavily trafficked area near the sushi bar and the up escalator.

The second group, which was moving toward the escalator did not have matching t-shirts, but one tall and lanky guy was wearing not only an FBI shirt, but had a CIA viser to add that extra coolness factor.

A girl with frizzy bangs from the second group who was wearing an Old Navy shirt, took a misstep and violated the buffer space around a girl from the first group. She moved past without apologizing. It was unclear whether the move was an accident, or a way of marking the food court as her crew’s territory.

The girl from the first group responded, quietly, but loud enough in an outside-the-7-11-type tone to make it known that she was not pleased: “Ah-hmmmm,”

The girl from the second group took notice as she was walking past: “Ah-hmmmm??” (please factor the question marks into the girl’s tone)

The girl from the first group, making eye contact to show the girl from the second group her displeasure, uttered: “Wha-ev-a …”

At that moment, the sensory capacities of both groups perked up and the second group came to a halt in front of the escalator. The guys sort of stood there for a second, staring each other down. One was smirking with his hands folded. He obviously was itching for a cat fight.

I had just picked up my lunch and was on my way out when I witnessed all of this. For a moment, I thought there was going to be a scuffle. I was waiting for someone to say “You got served,” as the night before, I had just watched a re-run on Comedy Central of the South Park “You Got Served” episode.

But alas, there was no dance off to settle the turf dispute. They just went on their way. (Something tells me these kids aren’t blessed with much rhythm or agility.)


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