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Rock Street, San Francisco

I’ve had a long week. I’m out here trying to build an empire on the back of, well myself, and my professors are still for some reason making me do schoolwork. I didn’t come here to play school. I came here to sit on the top floor of the library and crush blogs and iced coffees. It’s ridiculous that all the other athletes get special treatment and their own tutors, and I don’t. Making fun of people on the internet is a D1 sport. Don’t forget that.

Anyway, I was having an especially tough day yesterday. I have approximately 80 classes on Wednesdays, and also had to go to work after to serve and protect my country’s freedom as a bouncer. It’s a tough job, mostly because I dislike confrontation and have zero physical assets. Sadly, I can’t kick people out with my brain. I can’t politely ask people to not take their drinks outside with my jawline. I do have a beard now, so hopefully people will start respecting my authority. That or they’ll think I’m an ISIS recruit. Both outcomes are equally effective.

Anyway, I walked into one of my classes, three minutes late as usual (bad boy life), and some psycho was sitting in the seat that was clearly mine. I had been sitting there for the whole semester, literally every day, and this lunatic waltzes on in one morning and claims it her own. No no no (Mutumbo finger wave). I was livid. I was ready to pull the fire alarm. Now I understand why we have so many school shootings. I’m not saying that I would do it, I’m just saying I understand where they’re coming from. Columbine makes a little more sense now. Gotta walk a mile in someone’s trench coat to truly understand them, I guess.

So the question is, what do I do? I can’t roll over and lose the seat for the rest of the year. That was prime real estate. Far enough back that I could write in peace, but not far enough back that it drew attention to me. It was right next to an outlet, and right under the central air. I’m starting to get hot and bothered just thinking about it. I think the reasonable answer would be to hire a hitman, but I hate dealing with people, and you know how flaky hitmen are. I also don’t know how to contact a hitman.

I think the solution might be to just become a martyr for the cause. Set my self as an example to show how evil the human race can be. I think the best way to do that, is too start a hashtag to raise awareness of how many people actually get their chairs stolen in class. So, if you have ever gotten your seat taken in class, use the hashtag #MeThree, to show others that they are not alone. Thank you for your bravery.

Post Author: timmccue191

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