I can’t take it anymore. I’m pissed, and that’s all there is to it. I’m fed up. I’ve been pushed to the limit. The last straw has been drawn. I am so mad I could just scream. Never have I felt so furious, so enraged. The line has been crossed this time. Flames… on the side of my face… burning… hot… I… just… ugh! The mental anguish is intolerable. I’m simply disgusted. Horrified. Angry. All together unhappy. I just don’t know what to do. Man, am I upset.
I know how you feel. Seat Stealers are the bane of my existence. All my life I have been taught that a person’s chair is theirs and theirs alone. It is the ultimate defilation of manners to take another person’s seat. And yet, the Seat Stealers persist.
In preschool, in kindergarten, and throughout elementary school, we are given assigned seats in our classrooms. Whether we are mandated to sit at a certain desk in a particular row, or given an assigned cot at nap time, there is structure and order in our seating arrangements. As we progress into high school, we are often allowed to choose our own seats. Sometimes we get to choose the seat at the beginning of a quarter, and are held to that choice for the duration of the quarter; sometimes we are free to sit where we please every day. But, whether out of habit or out of a common sense of decency and all that is right with the world, we pick a spot and stick with it. And yet, the Seat Stealers persist.
On the school bus for a field trip, a child’s voice can always be heard: “I call same seats!” Protection against the Seat Stealers. But does it work? Would there be need for the child’s helpless cry if these denizens of the domain of evil did not exist? They are the reasons we have created the undefiable (at least to those of a civilized mind) commands of “Jack Jack spot back!” or “Quack Quack,” if you prefer. And yet, the Seat Stealers persist.
Yes, the Seat Stealers are a fundamental problem of modern society. The devil’s own agents, they signify the impending destruction of all that is good, of all that we hold sacred. And they have been joining forces of late. They have begun to converge on a single location, grounds ripe for their picking. The Eden of the Seat Stealers is none other than UMM’s own Science Auditorium, and never have they reared their ugly heads more blatantly than during this quarter’s installment of Geology 1000, affectionately dubbed “Rocks for Jocks.” Just today I stood before my chair—the one I sit in every day, without exception, except when someone has stolen it, fourth from the left in the front row—as I was innocently removing my coat, one of these demons, these Seat Stealers, swung around me and into the chair. Before my very eyes I was robbed, violated, defiled. It was the most invading experience of my life. The Seat Stealers persist.
If the human race is to survive, we must learn respect for one another. We, the decent, the order-loving, the seat-respecting, must come together and rid the world of these filthy creatures, these Seat Stealers. We must teach them some fucking manners.