I was in the library typing away at an exam. Gosh, doesn’t that guy know this is the quiet floor, I thought. I looked his way and finally gained the courage to tell him so. He apologized and after five minutes took the elevator to some other floor. I kept typing and I noticed some girls studying in the one of the closed off study spaces. Guys kept going in and out of their room. One guy even had the gal to bring the shorter girl a cappuccino. She obviously liked it and made a big girly deal out of it. I kept typing my essay.
Then there was this guy who kept clearing his throat. He sounded like a grunting gorilla. Then I looked at him. His ears were different sizes and shapes. He must have been born that way. He kept grunting like a gorilla, trying to clear his throat. He was skinny and his hair was messy and receding. His skin was unusually pink and he wore glasses. And then it hit me. He can’t help his grunting, his ears, and here I am in my pretty tie and shirt and shoes making fun of him and treating all the people on the floor like garbage. Idiot, I thought to myself about myself. The music in my ears played a hymn and my thoughts were directed to the Savior of mankind. I looked at the boy again and he looked more normal. His grunts were not annoying, but merely a way of him saying “I know that I am not normal. I just need a friend.”
I blew my nose, because I have a cold and then guy across the floor in the orange shirt looked at me. He probably thinks I’m gross too.