I'm sitting at a computer in the library. The computer across from me is occupied. Every time I stretched my legs out I kicked his feet (or so I thought). I didn't understand why he didn't move his feet. Come on man, if someone were repeatedly kicking me, I'd at least flinch. If only to get rid of the awkwardness. This is not a hard concept. But no. He just sat there with his freakishly long legs stretched out into my space making me incredibly uncomfortable.
Finally, I got fed up. I looked down underneath the table to give his feet the withering stare I was too chicken to give his face. To my surprise, my prize winning withering stare was directed not at his lower appendages, but at my own computer's chords. Because they're inanimate objects, they couldn't move to protect themselves from my incessant kicking. Sorry chords, I'll stop now.
Finally, I got fed up. I looked down underneath the table to give his feet the withering stare I was too chicken to give his face. To my surprise, my prize winning withering stare was directed not at his lower appendages, but at my own computer's chords. Because they're inanimate objects, they couldn't move to protect themselves from my incessant kicking. Sorry chords, I'll stop now.
haha dork.
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