A Little Something Different

September (Victor - creative writing classmate)

Victor- creative writing classmate

I hate everything about this stupid class. We're only a week into the semester and it's already the bane of my existence.

I hate the professor’s dumb jokes, I hate the location, I hate the other people in it. In particular, these two idiots who insist on sitting near me every freaking class make me want to stab my own eyes out with my mechanical pencil.

I take a couple of deep breaths. I need to calm down. I need to make it through this semester. This was the only lit class that fit in my schedule, I need it to graduate. I do not want to worry about taking a lit class next semester when I want to be concentrating on my kickass internship.

But seriously, I thought the people in my own major were awful, the comp sci guys can be pretty annoying, but these English majors are the dopiest bunch of assholes this side of the Mississippi. They think they’re so deep and filled with meaning. They are not.

And if this dude behind me kicks my chair one more time, I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I know I probably couldn’t take him physically, but I would definitely win in a battle of wits.

As I’m thinking that, he kicks it again and I turn to give him a death glare. He sits up straight and moves his freakishly long legs into the aisle, begins his assault on the chick sitting next to him. Or at least, an assault on her bag. He kicks the shit out of it.

I’m not shocked. He has the biggest feet ever. I suppose they go along well with her abnormally long neck.

Does he realize he would be a lot more effective helping her pick up her bag if he would bend his elbow? He's like Frankenstein's monster over there, all jerky movements and no moveable joints.

I tune it out as Big Foot makes random noises of apology and the Giraffe squeaks that it’s not a big deal.

I hate them both so much.

How many days until the semester is over?