By Kris Tate
Ah, watching human beings. ‘Tis a pastime. And as long as you don’t focus obsessively on one person at a time, it’s even legal. Now I grew up in southern California, where you come to expect certain general personality traits from your unwary research subjects: they are plastic, poignant, and purposeless. They aren’t perfect, but then again, that’s the reason you’re watching them. How else are you supposed to feel good about yourself, if not by social comparison? So you learn to respect your human neighbors, if only because they provide a pivotal role in your overall happiness.
Such is not the case here.
I don’t know whose idea it was to populate a school entirely with super-geeks, but if I have to endure one more conversation as to why Sonic the Hedgehog is a jerk, I’ll put my fist through my own face. The problem with people-watching other nerds is that you might as well be watching a mirror. Most of the time you’re bored, and whenever inanity is spoken, you instantly hate everything. Now don’t get me wrong, there are times when it is acceptable and maybe even enjoyable to talk about Youtube politics or how much spaghetti Mario forces Luigi to make on a daily basis, but that time is not whenever I’m sitting alone in Commons pretending to play Chess on my phone while sitting directly next to you and your friend.
Now, I wouldn’t whine without a solution. At least, not on the internet. So listen closely, future pencil-pushers, and spread my word like butter.
Clearly Mario and Luigi are Mexican immigrants, not natural-born Italians, so the question isn’t even about spaghetti. It’s about how many genuinely-made tacos they can bring over the border without spilling.
That is all.