by Joanne Mansfield

Created on: May 27, 2008

Teens, no matter who they are, possess insatiable appetites that never seem to be quenched. Just ask their parents who have to foot the grocery bills. It makes no difference what they are given to eat or they amount they devour; they are chronically hungry. Where they store it all is a mystery that has plagued the world of science for years and no doubt will remain an enigma until the end of time.

Home Economic wings have always been my least favorite place to stroll for two basic reasons: I detest cooking, and the odors that seem to hang in the air long after the cooking is done sicken me. I never question what is being prepared because it all smells the same. Greasy! But on a cooking day, it is a hangout for whom I will call, The Food Groupies.

Rock stars, rap stars, actors, athletes, and writers have groupies so why not Home Ec rooms? They are the adoring public who take what is given to them, no questions asked. Their acquisition of tidbits is comparable to addicts waiting in front of a crack house.

Food Groupies have a smooth routine. They rap softly on the classroom door. Their connection on the inside, peers out of a peephole. A mutual signal is then given for yet another accomplice to distract the teacher. When the food is ready, the door is hastily opened, and the food is quickly passed through the opening.

Once the bounty has made it into the hallway, it is then divided up among the Food Groupies. Blackened cookies are generously broken apart and doled out as quickly as they are gulped. Crumbs are never tossed aside and are happily devoured by the newest addition to the group. Slices of cakes are neatly ripped into chunks and shoved down the mouths of the hungry fledglings. Lips smack loudly as fingers are sucked and tongued for the last bit of sugary frosting.

This inner circle of females has a true sense of comradely. Though they vary in appearance as different as night and day, they are willing to share and are patient enough to stand huddled by the Home EC door for countless hours. There are, however, two exceptions to this rule: fried chicken and spaghetti.

There are no lines formed at the closed door and small hands are not jutted outward with a few morsels. No sir, both of these delectables are placed on paper plates, blanketed with napkins and are expeditiously hauled off to the silent, dark stalls of the girls' restrooms. Though I admit, it does offer privacy, which is what the Food Groupies are seeking, the ambiance of pure dining pleasure is surely lacking.

Several years ago, we had our annual dress up day, and many of our students were donned in fanciful church attire that made them all look like angels. One girl in particular, who was not part of the Food Groupies, but who constantly loitered around the teachers' lounge for vending machine handouts, decided to take matters into her own hands.

At precisely the right moment, she gained entry into the Home EC room and ripped off a package of uncooked hot-dogs. The students spotted her, and the teacher was alerted, but it didn't hamper the theft. Dressed in a frilly, white dress, the girl scaled a ten-foot chain link fence that bordered the school and disappeared into an adjacent apartment complex. School police were summoned, and the hot-dogs were finally rescued and brought back home. I thought that if the kid were that hungry, let her keep them for crying out loud!

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