Redeye, which I took to calling him (not to his face), didn’t  follow up on his threat. Thus, I lived to endure the few months of first semester lunch. Redeye and his band of Lager louts accepted me, as if that was a compliment. You see, if there was one talent that got me through high school, it was that I got along with everybody – jocks, geeks, gays, stoners, princesses, and detention room criminals. As far as my new lunch room compatriots,  yes they were thugs, but lazy thugs. Maybe it was the early lunch hour. Nobody had energy. A sad excuse for a food fight ended as soon as it started. “I’m just too tired” one of Redeye’s gang said. The only time…