Fuck You Friday

Fuck You, You Wannabe Liberal Intellectual

That title's an oxymoron. Liberal intellectual? That doesn't exist.

I have an hour and a half break between my two Biology classes every Tuesday and Thursday. During my break, I'll either do one or more of five things: 1) Sleep in my car (this is what I did 98% of the time when it was still cold), 2) Chat up Andrea on Gchat, 3) Call Mom and get my weekly phone call in, 4) Check my e-mail and surf the internet for nude pictures of Paul (kidding about the latter. Or am I?), and/or 5) Study for my second Biology class (this rarely happens since I only study when a test or quiz will be given). I'll do all of this either in the building where I have my second Biology class, either upstairs in the computer lab, or downstairs in the foyer area.

Yesterday, I was in the foyer area. There are about ten computers facing one wall, five soda machines, a snack machine, ten couches, and a number of tables and chairs. This area's primarily used for study groups, a dining area, and tutoring. Needless to say, it's never quiet here. People are on the couches talking to each other, there are a few students studying together, soda cans bang against the slot when someone puts in seventy-five cents, groups of people walk through and observe the foyer while the student tour guide talks about how great St. Ed's is, and some kids sit on their asses and talk on their cell phone.

I was one of those kids.

I was at one of the computers, checking my e-mail when my mother called. I answered it at my desk and chatted with her about Andrea's new glasses and some other useless crap. While I was on the phone, I felt two slightly harsh pokes on my right shoulder. I told my mother to hang on, and I turned to face this fat woman who sported a masculine haircut and those stupid trendy, modern, black, wannabe 50s vintage, thick-framed glasses.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you mind taking your phone call outside? I'm trying to work," she said rudely while she pointed to the computer two down from me.

At this point, I was already irritated. The fact that she was verbally rude to me just worsened my mood from when she touched me.

I glared up at her and said, "Actually, I do mind. This isn't a library, nor is it a quiet study area."

She was taken aback. "Well, I can't concentrate. I'd really appreciate it if you would go outside, or just at least move there to the couch."

"I'm actually not talking any louder than anyone else in here. The only difference is that my mother isn't physically here for me to talk to."

"I'm just trying to work here. You don't have to listen to what I say, but..."

"You're absolutely right. I don't have to listen to you, and I won't. Like I said, this isn't a quiet area. You're more than welcome to go upstairs to the computer lab and work there. It's not as loud there, but that isn't a quiet area either. I don't know what else to tell you, other than you're just going to have to deal with it."

I can be a real bitch sometimes, huh? Well, I wouldn't really say that was bitchy. I just have a mouth sometimes.

She exhaled her frustrated out. It felt like a freaking hurricane. Then she turned around, stomped back over to her computer as the entire building shook from her shifting weight, and I continued my phone conversation with my mom.

Seconds after the bitch sat down, an Asian girl who sat in between us turned to her and said, "The computer lab is quieter, but it can get loud like it does here." I saw the bitch give the girl a lame effort of a smile and then give me an ugly glare, in the corner of my eye. Then she pouted in front of her computer while I took my sweet time on the phone to finish my conversation.

What an idiot.

I don't ever tolerate that crap. I hate, hate, hate when people tell me what to do, especially when they've absolutely no authority or right to tell me anything. I wasn't sure if this lady was a professor, a school employee, or just an older student. Well, it doesn't really matter. It wasn't her place to tell me anything. If I was in a library, I of course wouldn't be talking on the phone. Hell, my phone would be on silent before I even entered the library. But that was just it though, I wasn't in a library. I was in a freaking open space that's primarily used for activities that requires talking.

And one more thing, you don't ever touch someone you don't know. When that queynte touched me, she was just asking for it. Good thing I didn't go Kung Fu on her saggy ass. Not really. I was really tempted to slap her fingers away though. That was just rude.

So, fuck you, you old piece of fart who had the nerve and had no position whatsoever to ask me to take my phone conversation outside.

Fuck You, Mr. Mildew-Smelling Bike Rider President

I'm actually not sure if he was the president of his club or not. I just assumed he was since he was the first one there.

This also happened yesterday. Around 8 P.M., Andrea and I left one of the computer labs and headed to the public lobby area where three nice, leather, and comfy couches and a big flat screen T.V. are found. We're usually in said lobby area every Tuesday through Thursday of every week because of American Idol and Grey's Anatomy. There was FINALLY a new episode of Grey's last night. Andrea and I didn't want to miss it, of course.

When we got there, some douchebag was already sitting on one of the couches. He looked like a douche. He really did. You know those kind of guys who just look like they'd be a douche? He had one of those faces. He just sat there like a complete idiot as his hand clung onto his dirty and probably thrift shop-purchased piece of junk bike (why would you bring your bike inside the building?), as if someone was going to steal it. A bum wouldn't even touch that piece of shit bike of his.

Andrea sat down on the couch parallel to this guy. I thought I'd be nice and asked if he was watching. He said he wasn't. As I made my way to change the channel, he informed me that there was going to be a meeting there at 8 P.M. What? Why would you hold a meeting in a public area where there's lots of traffic of people, lots of noise, and a T.V. that random people use? It didn't stop me though. I just changed the channel and sat down.

And sure enough, other people came to the lobby area for this meeting. They all looked like douches. Very unkempt and "natural" (people use that term very loosely to mean "dirty" and "smelly" since they haven't bathed for a week). I hate that current trend of twenty somethings dressing in thin, striped V-neck shirts, super tight jeans that shows a complete mold of your ball sack, worn-out old man shoes, one of those queer sling backpacks, and a rubber headband to top it all off. Their left pant leg's usually rolled up at least a foot to show everyone that they're a bike rider. Very gay. But yeah, about eleven of these idiots showed up for the meeting, and two other people rolled in their bikes (this continued to make no sense to me since there's a bike rack outside).

Andrea and I just sat there on the couches while they yelled at each other, despite the fact that they were only about two feet away, at the farthest, from each other. It wasn't like they couldn't hear each other either. The T.V.'s volume was really faint. We couldn't hear it at all. Everyone was yelling at each other because it was already loud. Just down the hall, the coffee shop was doing some kind of open mic night.

While we sat there, just minding our own business and watching T.V. pretty much on mute, I overheard a girl ask that douche guy why they hadn't yet started their meeting. He replied with, "Because Grey's Anatomy is more important." Fuck you, dude.

A few minutes later, I heard him tell some of the members that he asked us nicely to move for their meeting. Fuck you, liar. He never asked us anything. Well, I take that back. He did ask me what we were planning on watching. That was it though. He never asked us to move. I wanted to say something to him, but I held my tongue. But even if he had asked us, we wouldn't have budged. Why would we? And, it wasn't as if we told him that he should hold his meeting elsewhere. We didn't care if they had their meeting of fifteen or so people on a few couches that only fit eight.

It took them fifteen minutes to realize that we weren't going to move. The king douche got frustrated and told the club that their meeting was moved upstairs. Thank God. As they made their way upstairs (the idiots with the bikes rolled them up the stairs, too), I stood from the couch to put the volume up. I didn't give a shit that they were mad.

Why the hell would you hold your meeting in a lobby where people walk through constantly, or in an area where there's a T.V. that's frequently used? And worse, in an area that was obviously too small for the amount of club members? That made no sense to me. It wasn't like you could reserve the lobby for a meeting. It's completely open to anyone. And they could move their meeting to another area...like, oh, I don't know....a quiet room where they can actually have a meeting that doesn't require shouting at each other two feet away. Or better yet, why not just hold your meeting in the regular area? Fucking morons.

So, fuck you, you pit-stained lying fuck. Fuck your bike, too. It was stupid.


That's it for this week's FYF.