School Can Be War

I’m at a friend-of-a-friend’s lively house party. I’m hanging out in the living room when one of the guys I know through some other friend’s circles starts talking loudly.

Acquaintance: “Yeah, back when I was in the Gulf War, we had this one mission—”

Me: “Wait, what?”

Acquaintance: “Yeah, I served in the Gulf. Rough times, man.”

He turns to see me, actually looking at me for the first time, and looks shocked. I don’t think he was expecting me or my friendship group to be there. Y’see, we know him. My other friend speaks up.

My Friend: “Except, dude… you were born in 1979. The Gulf War was from 1991 to ’92. When we were in seventh grade.”

The room goes quiet.

My Friend: “Congrats on being a thirteen-year-old combat veteran.”

Half the immediate group bursts out laughing, the other half just stares awkwardly. My acquaintance suddenly remembers he needs to “check on something in the kitchen” and disappears for the rest of the night.