This week, two of the Humor section’s three articles are about feet. In honor of this completely unplanned phenomenon, we are proud to present CT Feet. Don’t think about it too much.
Dear University Peers,
I’m sure you will agree when I say there’s nothing like sitting down in your favorite study spot, setting down your venti septuple-shot iced mocha caramel latte with almond milk and an extra pump of depression, taking your (most likely dead) laptop out, trying desperately to find an outlet to resuscitate said laptop, and mentally preparing to start your work when, glancing to your right, you see a person across the room with their socks off and their feet on the chair.
Their bare.
Ass.
Feet.
Just out. On the chair.
I’m not an iZone kind of gal (thank God).
But almost every time I’ve been there everyone is just minding their business, blissfully unaware (somehow) that there are people, with their shoes off, dogs out, stinking up the place (this only proves my point about iZoners).
We can’t continue to fake surprise at the campus-wide outbreak of foot-mouth disease when Brad over here keeps rubbing his athlete’s foot all over the walls.
Thing is, it’s almost excusable when it happens in iZone (almost) — we can’t expect much more from those kind of people.
But to cut your toenails in Welles-Brown, my sacred place of study! The holy trinity of quiet, cozy, and productive! To interrupt my thoughts with the clacking of cold metal against yellowed, waning crescent moons, and allow them to collect in the cracked leather cushions, is too much for me to bear.
Congratulations on being an absolute blight on society. I am lacking for words to express my frustration that, while writing this, I have checked thesaurus.com 37 times and the best words I can find to describe these people are as follows: prehistoric, paleolithic, protozoa, and heathen.
But the worst I’ve seen yet was at Strong Auditorium. As if it wasn’t neglected and abused enough as is, these miscreants think it’s socially acceptable to take their shoes and socks off mid-performance and place their chapped, clammy hobbit feet on the chair in front of them — just waving to the flute section and clapping between movements. The UR Wind Symphony’s show was very impressive and accomplished, and it would’ve been even more enjoyable had it not been for foot girl over here.
So, Miss Amoeba, as you sit there with stickers on your Macbook Pro that say “Act neighborly!” and “Be kind!” take a lesson from your fake personality and actually consider those around you by keeping your filthy hooves off the couch.
I ask you, my fellow students, to help prevent foot flashing in our public areas, whether it be our beloved libraries, auditoriums, classrooms, or anywhere else on campus. We can stop this vile habit, but only if we band together. So remember: If you see bare extremities, then they’re your enemies.
Sincerely,
Podiatrically Panicked in POA
