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9.10.09

S M U Annoy Me.

This week I have encountered the seedy underbelly of what we know as SMU.  You would think it would be underage drinking, the lack luster football program or just KPNI programming, but NO! I have encountered the unintelligent people that plague every classroom and sidewalk.  Clearly, we have all run into the occasional dimwitted colleague, but lately it has been worse than Drew Carey hosting The Price is Right.

First, to the guy who deems it necessary to practice his competition frisbee twirling skills on the lawn in front of Dallas Hall, stop. You should probably focus less on slinging frisbees around while listening to “Eye of the Tiger,” and more on looking for a lady-friend.

A quick second complaint goes as follows: those Ugg boots are called that for a reason.  They are hideous and no one, and I mean no one should ever dawn that repugnant footwear ever again.  The sad part is, the lovely ladies on our campus seem to think they don’t look like Eskimos on vacation.  Please stop wearing those boots, because I could never imagine the vile odor that emanates from those eyesores after a full day of walking the campus.

Last, and most importantly, please follow the unwritten rules of attending class.  To explain, let me share an experience I had earlier this week.

On a normal Tuesday morning, I walked into my marketing class, excited to have my test returned so I could quell some of my post test anxiety.  As soon as I stepped in the door, I realized that some broad had swiped my seat.   This forced me out of my routine, but I figured that pushing through the minor set-back wouldn’t be a big deal.  So I posted up about four rows back on the aisle, trying not to displace one of my fellow scholars.  As the class started, so did the mouth of the sorority sweetheart who had come in at the last second to sit next to her friend. They began to discuss last night's events and continued to talk throughout the ENTIRE lecture.  At one point, I almost interrupted their discussion to ask them to be quiet, but I decided against my plan for fear that they wouldn’t understand me if every other word in my sentence wasn’t, “like”.  So it only added to my frustration when, at the end of class, as everyone was praising the teacher's assistant for a job well-done, "Chatty Kathy" in front of me ads in, “Yeah, you are like, awesome, Gena.” Now, I am not normally picky, but if you are going to tell someone how awesome they are, maybe you should use their actual name and not something that sounds close enough.

These fifty minutes were a catastrophe and I left hating my life. I have since decided to write the three golden rules of attending class:

1.     Do not take someone else’s seat because, yes, there is an understood seating chart.
2.     Do not in the same sentence tell your TA what an amazing job she is doing and also call her a completely wrong name
3.     Never sit in a class that you attend twice a year and talk through the entire lecture because it is very rude.

I guess the only lesson to be learned here is to never be a Ugg-boot-wearing, inconsiderate frisbee-man and we won’t have a problem.

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