Soup's Too Distracting

So I was sitting in my Politcs of Nationalism lecture yesterday when the professor mentioned something about the American South being a nation unto itself. Ok, I guess he's right, but the guy in front of me starts nodding. No big deal, but with the next anecdote doled out by the professor, he starts nodding again . . . after the next one he does it again. Either he was doing his best James Lipton impersonation or he thinks he's some political science wiz that is so smart, he has to validate everything said in the lecture. With all due respect to the lecture, it's not like this was earth-shattering stuff that made you say "wow" or even, "now i get it." I guess the whole episode goes to show that I'm probably the most easily irritated person in the world.

Continuing with that thought, I've found that I'm most likely the most unpopular person in the group. The thing is, you'd think this would trouble me, but if you thought that, you clearly have never met me. To be honest, it's not the type of unpopularity that I would most crave, that being one where people talk about me when I leave a room, or whenever I'm not around they say how much they hate me. No, this is more of a don't really know what my name is/ignore me when I'm in the room type of unpopularity. Let's just say if this trip were an independent movie about the banality of high school, I'd be the guy who ends up with the girl in the end because I'm that much different and unnoticed by everyone else.

Let's just go over the scenario of last night to prove my point. At tea, I was one of the first people to arrive. As I usually do, when I get there I stand by the carrots, discretely eating them while managing not to touch any of the other carrots out of courtesy to others. As Don Rickles would say, "I'm a nice guy!" (I'll probably make a lot more references to that in future posts) While I'm standing there, the same thing that happens every Monday evening happened again. As more and more people enter the room, I'm progressively pushed to the corner that's farthest away from my original position. I understand that everyone is on a tight budget and they can't pass up free food, but these people are vulture-esque sample abusers. They're the type that, if they had children, they would go to Sam's pushily do a round of free samples, then let their children out of the car, and make them retrieve another round of samples, furtively returning the complimentary portions of breakfast burrito to their loving parents, hiding in the section of halloween decorations.

Well, no one noticed as I was pushed to the extremities of the room, but as fate would have it, I was in for more vexation. I forget what the exact details were, but two people standing next to me were having a conversation about how the one was going on a trip this weekend. He said he was going with Patrick. The other asked if it was "that Patrick" as in not me. I know she didn't mean me because she quickly said his last name to clarify that she was talking about him. She then said, "or the other Patrick. There are too many Patricks." Remember I was standing right next to them. Now, there are two, count them two, people named Patrick in the group of 40+. That's one per 20 for those of you keeping score at home. Last time I checked, it's not difficult to keep track of two people with the same name in a group that large. I'm thinking about refering to myself as the other Patrick from now on.

Not only did I learn that I'm unknown on this trip, but I'm also the meanest person too. Before class started, the "Director of Campus Ministry" asked if we would sign a thank you note to his boss for coming on the trip with us over the weekend. I immediately asked "why does he need to be thanked? he didn't do anything for us and he got a free trip in the process." Everyone looked at me in disbelief. But, I'm sorry. Speaking as someone who has never received the obligatory mass thank you note with a group of signatures after performing minimal service, I guess I just don't understand how the world works. He seemed like a nice guy, but shouldn't he be the one thanking us for giving him a spot on the bus and a bed to sleep in. I mean, he did sleep in his own bed while other people were forced to share or sleep on couches. If he had, say, bought everyone ice cream after dinner, or made breakfast, then yes I would be thanking him, but I am very discriminating in whom I thank. What kind of world do we live in where people go out of their way to thank others for mooching? Has the mentality of this group's mooching, such as that at tea, so infiltrated other areas of social decorum that they're now rewarding other mooching with thank you notes? I signed the card, but I don't think I've ever made a more insincere thank you. And no, I did not write a superficial note, like "thanks, it was great to meet you!" We, as a scoiety, should probably create a set of unwritten rules for the thank you note. Rule number one: Something of monetary value must change hands. i.e. gifts, cash, etc. Rule number two: The mass thank you note is never accepted. Either you get one signed by a person in authority, individual thank you notes from everyone in the group so you eliminate the insincere signature such as the one I gave, or no thank you note at all.

It was about the time I was stewing over the thank you note incident that I realized I was probably the "meanest" person in the room. Once again, just like coming to the realization of being the least popular, I didn't know whether to embrace it or change it.