Dear Guy Eating Chips,
Sure. Have a coffee, a sandwich, a pop-tart, I don't care, but Sun Chips? I don't think you could have found anything worse to eat in a library, and it definitely doesn't help that you chew like a fucking wood chipper. What flavor are they? I'd be pretty stoked if you just downed an entire bag of Sour Cream & Poison. I'm not sure exactly what Sun Chips bags are made of, but it's no secret that they're louder than an EDM concert. Plus, the chips themselves are fucking noisy. Don't eat that shit in the library.
Dear Couple in the Corner,
It's cute that you want to help each other study, but this isn't the place to be sucking face. Most people are here to study or read a fucking book (a fucking book not a fucking-book. Put down The Kama Sutra). Not only that, but if you're going to start yelling "Who the fuck is Kristen?" at your boyfriend whenever his phone goes off, try doing it at home or in the KFC bathroom where he got you pregnant. That way you won't disturb others, and I'm sure the fact that you scream at him in public is probably one of the reasons he's cheating on you in the first place. While you're fighting though, could you tell your asshole of a boyfriend to put his phone on silent? Thanks. Speaking of which...
Dear Guy with the iPhone,
Not only do you have your phone on loud, but you actually have the "click" noise turned on for texting. Only douchebags have that sound on. We get it man, you have an iPhone. Congratulations, now put it on silent. Yes, silent. Not vibrate. I don't appreciate the table subtly shaking every forty-five seconds because you've got some conversation important enough to interrupt your studies, but not so important that you'd actually leave. Honesty, why do you keep putting it back down? You might as well just keep the fucking thing in your hand. I asked somebody to watch my computer while I "went to the washroom" just so I could do a walk-by and see how much work you've done tonight. All that was on your screen was this.
Dear Headphone Girl,
Just because the headphones are in YOUR ears, doesn't mean the rest of us can't hear them. You've got your music on full blast. If anybody over the age of thirty-five was in here, they would lecture you about hearing damage. I wouldn't be surprised if deaf people could somehow hear this though. I feel like I'm studying at a Drake concert. A Drake concert where he plays the same song on repeat for two hours. How am I supposed to finish my work when I keep accidentally typing the lyrics to "Hold On, We're Going Home"? Which is kind of ironic, because that's exactly what my roommate and I are about to do if you don't conclude this years OVO fest soon.
Dear Guy Who is Sleeping/Snoring,
What the fuck are you doing here?
Dear Guy Typing,
I admire how hard you're working, but you type like you're trying to punch a hole through your keyboard. This isn't fucking whack-a-mole. You're mashing those little buttons harder than my sister when she plays Nintendo 64. I swear, every time you hit a key, the ground shakes. I feel like I'm in the opening scene to a Godzilla movie, and honestly, I'd probably be more content with that.
Dear Girl with a Cold,
I was happy to say "bless you" the first time, but now you have to stop. I started keeping a tally on my phone about fifteen minutes after you sat down, and have been updating it throughout the writing of this article.
You sneezed 183 times in the past hour and a half. I think my roommate meant to call you a bitch, by the way. I doubt people over the age of sixty can even hear your sneeze because it's so high pitched. Lucky them. I'm not sure if I'm impressed or disgusted by the fact that you went through enough Kleenex to soak up the Pacific Ocean, but if you're sick, you should just study at home. Or in your case, quarantine.