The 4 Types Of Douches You Meet In The Library

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The 4 Types Of Douches You Meet In The Library

Some people think of the library as a place you only need to visit once a year to succeed. Those lucky types typically think that anyone who posts up before finals week is an over-achieving turd burglar who will “just die” if they tarnish their flawless GPA. Well, guess what? Screw them. College can be hard, and some of us can’t study at the house because that leads to “a beer or two” which leads to midnight pong which leads to sleeping through that 8 a.m. Anthropology class you took because you heard it was easy. Guess what again? It’s not easy and the angry gazes I get upon suggesting “America would be better if people shut up and did their jobs” are toxic. Thanks to my desire to not be homeless in a couple years, I often find myself at the library. That’s one of the few places I can focus and get lost in the sound of keystrokes over that of the terrible EDM some of my buddies consider music.

Unfortunately, the library isn’t always a safe haven. Some folks just don’t understand that it’s a place to get work done and not a fucking social atmosphere. These assholes are easy to spot and usually easier to hear. This guide will help you avoid these types or, if you’re one of them, find a solution to stop being a greasy taint.

1. Headphones Douche

It’s perfectly understandable to have some background music going while you grind out a paper. Some people just can’t focus without that white noise rolling along, and I’ve often cranked up KISS’ entire “Destroyer” album to give me some much needed mojo. Headphones Douche, however, doesn’t want to keep it to himself. There are two variations on this steaming pile of human garbage. The first and more common is the one who wants to share his awful taste in music with the world. He’s not content to listen to his Christian Neo-Punk Deathmetal Grunge at a volume where only he hears it. He has to pull a Spinal Tap and turn it up to 11, a move that in most settings is respectable. When I’m trying to map an ethnography, however, I couldn’t give two shits about how edgy you are. Just wear a fucking Five Finger Death Punch shirt and get it over with, tool. The other, and arguably worse, Headphones Douche is one who has to respond to the little voices in his ear. Maybe he’s scoping out a sweet podcast or listening to Ron White do stand up. If it’s Ron White, pass me an earbud and let’s have a laugh. If you’re constantly letting out a “Whoa!” while you watch whatever godawful non-Dragonball Z Japanese cartoon you’re watching, get out of my sanctuary of study and go jerk off at home. It’s what you’ll be doing later, anyway.

2. Group Project Douche

So you have a client meeting coming up and you were grouped up with some folks from your class. Good for you, future titans of industry, and if you take a room or simply speak in a reasonable manner, I wish you the best. Chances are, though, you won’t be. The first ten minutes will likely be spent with a meet and greet, something you should have taken care of in class. The next twenty MIGHT actually be beneficial to your grade and result in serious work getting done. Then John-boy is going to tell a joke and get everyone off track. Maybe Sally has to vent about “this one guy who just WON’T stop texting her.” Either way, you’re about to become a problem for those of us taking care of business. Five minutes of hooting and hollering is going to result in us having to gather up our things and find a corner where we can’t hear your ear-splitting stupidity. Chances are it’ll start right when Karl is in full-bullshit mode and crushing pages, thus killing my rhythm and leading to a train of thought derailment. Thanks, douches. Unfortunately, this is an inevitability and I’ve been guilty of it too. The solution is simple, however, and one that applies to most things in life: Go to a bar. Everyone knows that more business can be taken care of among college students in a relaxed environment where you can be as loud as you want and have a beer or six. Just carry your asses somewhere else, and let me bullshit in peace.

3. Snoozing Douche

Oh, poor kid. You’ve been in here for six hours and you need a little cat nap? That’s not hard to believe, because you’re a giant gaping pussy. “But Karl,” this meat curtain resembling pile of monkey shit says, “I’m a quiet sleeper. I’m just trying to invigorate my mind for like ten minutes.” Is that the case, Clam Huff? All I hear is snoring, lip smacking, and the occasional nonsense word spewing forth from your beefy, infertile ovaries. It’s a good thing you’re sterile too, chump, because if you had kids they’d be just as big of pussies as you. Eyes starting to get heavy? Go grab a cup of caffeine and perk up. Feeling a little more chipper? Go home, lie on your bed, and catch some Zs. Know who else is tired? Every single person on this campus. My buddy Kevin hasn’t slept in four days thanks to the new brick of Sinaloan Sneezing Powder he just picked up, and he’s still motoring through. We’re worried about him, but he’s not doing pathetic shit like taking a nap in the library.

4. Overly Friendly Douche

Look, I’m sure you’re a perfectly nice person, but I could give a shit less about how hard that Chemistry class is, how drunk you got last night, or really any other combination of words that come out of your mouth. Do you think I want to be here? No. If I wanted to make friends, I’d be somewhere enjoyable, like a baseball game or the local watering hole. Unless you’re an attractive woman intent on showing me her genitals, on fire, or offering me the Publisher’s Clearing House $10,000 a week for life, leave me the hell alone. You saw my rush shirt and your dad was a brother here? I’ve never met you in my life, so he’s probably real proud of what a bum-whistler his kid is. For the love of all that is holy, go talk to an employee about your miserable life. At least they’ll get paid to listen to a dingus like you.

It’s really not that difficult, people. Some of us have enough fun to supplement it with trips to a place built with the sole purpose of improving our grades. If you see someone posted up, pupils the size of saucers with headphones attached to their ears that’s typing frantically to the tune of “Dr. Feelgood,”, just leave them be. There’s a strong chance they could be employing your anime-watching, unproductive, tuna-smelling, father shaming ass one day.

Karl Karlson is TFM's self-proclaimed cartoon expert and your best buddy. He resides in the mountains of NC where he wrestles black bears and attempts to grow a beard. Karl gave up liquor following an unfortunate incident involving tequila and a vacuum cleaner, but he isn't above a nice stout on the porch.

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