I don’t consider myself generally refined, but despite my own frequent improprieties, I feel comfortable saying that some of our fellow Harvardians are douche-faces when it comes to being considerate.
You’d think that at Harvard, a place rife with generally nice folks, people would maintain a sense of old boys’ decorum—but you’d think wrong.
Hardly acknowledging the woman who has to swipe your card for a meal? Pushing into someone on an icy sidewalk without even so much as an apology? Not even making eye contact with the Spare Change guy while you tighten your grip on your LV bag?
If you weren’t sure, you’re a jerk.
Jerks seem to proliferate during shopping period. Some, already knowing that the class isn’t their top-choice Lit and Arts A, sit on the ends of the row, effectively blocking out the dozens of seats between them. On more than one occasion this week I’ve had to clumsily tread my way through a maze of crossed legs and fluorescent colored totes. Why am I the one who has to mumble, “Oh, excuse me”? Attention: you should be apologizing to me.
Ass.
Just last week, after climbing over a number of seats, I plopped down near a gentleman who refused to make room for others. At this point, shoppers were lining up outside the doors and another guy asked the gentleman if he wouldn’t mind taking the next seat.
To my disbelief, the douche-face in question alleged that the next seat had a less-than-perfect view of the projection screen. He was staying where he was. Valiantly, my soon-to-be hero informed him that he would take the seat. Climbing over, he intentionally knocked into the uncouth gentleman and settled into the chair.
For that rude student, I envision a special seat in Hell. And for him and his compatriots, I pray that those seats will be in the middle of the row.
