Dear Person Who Sits/Sat in Front of Me in that Class This Semester/That One Semester,

I don’t mean to sound rude, but as a bit of friendly advice, if you have more bacne than back, you might consider wearing fewer open-backed shirts.

I’m sure you’re thirsty, but mining for that last little bit of Diet Coke with your straw in the ice at the bottom of your styrofoam cup isn’t going to help.  Also, I’m about to punch you in the face. I’m in class, and that’s unbelievably distracting.

Quit oozing through the seat-back into my leg space, you squishy person you.  As much as I enjoy unintentionally kneading your muffin top with my knees, I need personal space.

Try Head and Shoulders, I feel like in a blizzard.

Pigtails work too, were you never in 2nd grade?

Your long, flowing hair is beautiful, sure, but when I’m trying to take notes and my desk is covered in long, flowing hair I don’t appreciate it so much.  Ponytail that shiz, or I’m bringing scissors to class.

I’m happy you’ve got such good posture, boo scoliosis and all, but you’re like freaking 8 feet tall, I can’t see anything.

You’ve got Happy Feet, sure; I know there’s an unstoppable rhythm inside your heart, fine; but stop with the foot tapping, or I’m going to have a nervous breakdown and stab you in the neck with my pencil.

Surely surely SURELY you can go 50 minutes without that bag of Gardettos.

Wear deodorant, thanks much. :)

With love,

-Andrew, (that guy who sits behind you in that one class)

And by “love” I mean creepy, unreasonable rage.

P.S. I hope I didn’t offend anyone today, but if I did, no offense.

P.P.S. It’s been far too long, dear reader, and for that I offer the sincerest of apologies.