Keep your legs to yourself

To all individuals with legs, please use them as they were intended to be used. In other words, don’t use them to ignite the fiery rage inside me.

I get it, comfort is probably the only thing going through anyone’s minds while sitting through a full period of a teacher’s ongoing droning, and the first human instinct is to sprawl out across any available surface area. However, while you’re having the best time of your life resembling a corpse thrown onto a chair, I don’t exactly appreciate the thuds and pounds from the constant readjusting of your feet on the leg of my fragile chair. I appreciate your attempts to entertain me with an earthquake simulation, but living practically on the San Andreas Fault line, I think I’m content with my number of earthquake experiences.

The school desks haunt me in my sleep; they may as well be a small prison cell. There’s no scooting back or forward to escape the spastic feet, thanks to the genius who decided to cram students between in an immobile chair desk and graciously maximize their comfort for a full hour. I can only sit there pondering about what I did to bring this karma upon myself, or consider if facing the consequences are worth smashing your precious foot.

Just sit like a normal, average human being, or control the rash movements of your limbs. I’m not asking for you to become some rigid stationary brick, but just an average person using a chair the way it was originally intended to be used. That’s all you have to do to save one person from leaving the room as a walking ball of flames.

Yes, when I aggressively turn around in my chair and glare straight down at your feet, it means I want the said feet to be back on the ground where they should be. My problem with passive aggression won’t allow me to do anything about it except throw dirty looks. It does not mean to give me an avid look, and resume mistreating my innocent chair.

Here’s my incredibly simple solution: Stop blissfully being indifferent to the fact that other people exist.