What Happens At the Jock Table Anyway?

So, sometimes at college I wondered--okay, yes, to this very day, I wonder what actually went on at the jock table.  More importantly, do the jocks ever wonder what goes on at the nerd tables?  Or is it just we nerds looking across from our "lowly" positions hoping to attain the "higher" athletic position who wonder this?  I mean, once you're a jock you're the top of the world, right?

If any jock ever thinks that, remember that the tech guys are the ones who control the switch that can turn off your internet connection.

That is REAL power.

I mean, come on, I'm all the way across the dining hall, and I would sometimes briefly glance over and wonder, "What do they talk about over there anyway?  I mean, obviously it's something funny because I can occasionally hear the laughter way over here.  But is basketball really that funny?"

Then again, if the jocks ever looked over at the nerds, they probably wondered, "Is computer stuff that funny?"

And, yes, occasionally it is, but we talk about more than that, so I assume the jocks do too.  In fact, I'm pretty sure, just like any normal person at my college, they also got into discussions about theology and bemoaned the taste and smell of dining hall food.

Which really isn't THAT bad (Yes, I hung out with the kitchen workers, and they WOULD appreciate some love once in a while.)

But, honestly, if your computers were working, did you jocks ever know we nerds existed?

Not that it matters to me because I'm perfectly happy with my friends, but sometimes, I'd try to smile at you because you were someone I knew, but I don't think you saw me.  Maybe the girl hyped up on Dr. Pepper wearing a Minion T-shirt isn't your idea of who you want to socially interact with, but the least you could do was at least nod back.  I was happy to see you, and sometimes I just wanted to go up to you and tell you I thought you were awesome in your game last night, but if I can't even manage to catch your attention, you're never going to know.  You aren't my Facebook friend, but it was my status.  You'll never know that in my mind, you are cool.  I would never want your life (girls) or to be your girlfriend (guys), but sometimes I just wanted to say, "You're awesome," but I can't because I can feel the social barriers rising when you pass within three feet of me.

Maybe someone outside of this situation would say, "Just sit among the jocks; get to know them!"  Let me draw you a comic of what happens.

Now, granted, if a jock sits at a nerd table the same thing happens to him/her.  See WHY we don't intermingle?  We are, like, these polar opposite THINGS!  And supposedly opposites attract, but you very rarely see jock guy asking nerd girl out.  Maybe we'll last socially interacting for a couple meals, but it doesn't always last.

It works with magnets and personalities, but not with the social scale.

There are exceptions to this rule.  For example, I went to church with some people who were more at the jock end of things, and for those few hours each week, we got along great and awesome and impacted each others lives, but once we were back on campus, we didn't necessarily always chill and hang out together.  Still, they were the people of the jock crowd that I got to know a bit better, which provided me with proof that these people are actually normal humans.

But, still, I have to wonder what the jock table is like.  I sat there a few times, but most of the time it ended up like the example above:  I had no idea how to follow the conversation and ended up retreating one meal later back to the safety of the round tables in the nerd section.  My brain quickly deleted any information because it absorbed nothing but the awkwardness of the entire situation.

Awkward turle

But then there was one time.  One time that had me inwardly laughing the entire incident, but which I later found out the jocks did not like:  the day the nerds took over the jock table.

Now, you have to understand:  the long table (actually, three tables in a row) in the dining hall closest to the kitchen may as well have had a sign over them that read, "This table is for jocks!  Jocks sit here!  Jock Country Right HERE!"  Even on Saturdays when everyone else was thrown from their routine and sits everywhere because the round tables are shut down, the jocks would still congregate at their table, completely unaffected.  It is where they knew to find each other.

And then one Saturday...

One of my friends who was more on the music person-y nerd side of the social scale, set her plate down there.  The takeover wasn't even on purpose.  She simply chose a seat and sat down.  The rest of us joined her.  Before long, most of the table was filled with music people and drama people and nerds, and we were having a lovely time.  I was sitting towards the end of the table.  I think I had five empty seats to the left of me.  In the next half hour, two of those seats would be sat in.  Only two athlete-type girls dared to still sit at a table that had apparently been polluted by the presence of a couple nerds.  I salute their bravery.  Every other jock started wandering around looking for new seats even when there were only a few of us.  They could have easily sat next to five nerds and overpowered our numbers faster than the time it takes for the goalie to make it across the gridiron and spike a hole in one in basketball.

Don't worry.  I totally know what a tennis court looks like!

Poor confused jocks

But, no, that night, by pure accident, a social experiment was constructed:  what would happen if the jock's table was taken from them?  Normally, my group of friends is the one you will find sitting in little threes or fours scattered around the dining hall as we straggle in on Saturday evening, carefully fitting ourselves around the "regular people" and nerds we don't know as well.  That night, the nerds happened to take over the jock table, and the athletes and their friends were scattered around the dining hall in twos and threes.  I kid you not, it was hilarious to watch over and over again (and I'm sorry to those who didn't find it funny):  a jock would finish getting his food from the line and would look at "his table" and see it filled with people he barely knew.  He would then start scanning the dining hall, looking for a familiar face until he located one; then he could go and sit down.  But as they were going to sit down, almost all of them took one more look at their table, slowly filling up with these strange people discussing important things like Northern Lights trips and stage makeup.  I saw this repeated multiple times.  And for just one night, the jocks had to do what the nerds did every Saturday:  go find their friends among everyone else.

But what would happen if a jock came and sat among the nerd tables?  Just came and set his things down at one of the tables where we all sat before any of us got there?  We know the answer because it's happened.  I can't count the number of times I would look towards one of my regular tables only to see it overtaken by people I didn't normally eat with.  But my eyes would keep scanning, and there, normally not more than two round tables away, I would find my friends again, all eating together.  And I'd come and set my things down, and we'd still all be together.  They put out a napkin, saving a spot for me.  They looked out for me, knowing I'd have a bit trouble finding them.  They called my name if I walked past them.  And we always found each other, and there we would be again.  Tomorrow, we'd have our seats back probably.  We had no worries, no fears.  If we never got that table back, then now we have a new one.  What was more important?  The location or the people we were with?

Jocks, whatever you talk about at your tables, whyever you sit there, remember this:  if the nerds ever kick you out, whether by accident or purpose, it's just a table.  The nerds have spent time developing a system of finding each other and saving seats, and that's not a bad thing.  Maybe that's why one day we'll end up being your bosses, as the cliche goes.  Maybe it's because we had to be flexible, to bend to the whims of the "superior" group, to scramble and come up with the solutions.  The nerd way of life is more than GPAs and glasses and gigabytes and games.  Oh, jocks, as a sports fan, I do see your purpose on this planet, but remember your ability to kick a ball is no more important than my ability to calculate its area (4πr^2).  So next time you see an unfamiliar group at your table, take my advice:  don't inwardly whine about it.  See if you can find your friends, and if you can't, procure several seats and hail down your compatriots as you visibly locate them.  Hey, maybe the new table won't be such a bad place.  After all, the memories you make with your friends are more important than a silly old table anyway.

But, still, if you don't mind me asking...what DOES go on at the jock tables anyway?