Sit Down and Shut Up

You know, I am very sorry for you that you don’t like the seat that you chose in this class. I know that Prof. Feedback can be difficult to hear at times. But here’s the thing: he announced on the first day of class that he would pass a seating chart on the third day of class and that those seats would be the final seats for the semester. If you couldn’t be bothered to find a seat that worked for you, that’s not my problem. We showed up early so that we could get these seats. Maybe you should have done the same.

So, no, you can’t sit in Pei’s seat. Even if she isn’t here five minutes before class starts. Either go to your own assigned seat (that you chose yourself!) or ask permission of someone in a more preferable seat to officially trade places with you. It’s not my fault that you couldn’t be bothered to take are of this problem before now. Furthermore, I don’t want to sit next to you because you smell bad. Your breath could melt steel. Save your whiny guilt trip for someone who cares.

ETA: He finally sat in the row in front of me. Every time he opens his mouth—and he’s convinced that he’s a genius of criminal law, so he opens his mouth constantly—I get a blast of his nasty breath. If your breath is that bad, you need to see a dentist and keep a mouthful of mints at all times.