Playing Magic in the library over spring break is like masturbating to a chess competition.

A guy sitting in a booth in the library cafe is on his cell phone, talking loudly. It's spring break, and there are only about six of us sad sacks in here doing work, so his conversation is more or less filling the room. I was tuning him out pretty well until I just heard him say:

"Yeah, last night was pretty cool. We just played a bunch of Magic. I brought my big deck over to show people, and yeah, everyone was pretty impressed with what I could do with it."

If you're imagining the guy saying this with a kind of Napoleon Dynamite voice, you're pretty close. I'm not judging Magic players (okay, I am a little bit). But I am judging someone who gets his self-validation from reporting his skill at it. And who also uses the word "deck" a little too much like the word "penis."

And the loud cell phone conversation brings me to a social etiquette rant I've been meaning to go on for a little while. There are literally thousands of breaches of social responsibility that I could go on about. Leaving a wet counter in the bathroom. Farting in an elevator. Not tipping. Dropping a deuce so large it won't flush and then just walking away. But here, I will focus on three, ordered from least annoying to most homicide-inducing.

1.) Getting your stuff together to leave a class while the professor is still talking. Yeah, we're all attuned to the impending-freedom clues, buddy. It's not just you who has a super-psychic sixth sense or a specialness-goblin whispering in your ear to alert you to the code. When the professor's voice lifts a little, when she starts talking about what's due next week, when the second hand is moments away from colliding with the big 12... We all get it. Here's the thing. You think you're being all quiet and sneaky, soundlessly shifting your papers back inside your folder, maybe closing your water bottle top. But the next thing you know, you find you need to scooch your chair back a little. Now we're talking audible sound. And then everyone else around you starts doing it, and before you know it, the professor is completely drowned out. What's the big deal, right? She's just doing a syllabus-drone that everyone knows is literally seconds away from becoming a see-you-next-week closer. IT'S FUCKING RUDE, THAT'S WHY. You know why it's rude? Because you don't have anywhere to be. Universities design time between classes for just this reason! You'll make it to your bio lab, I swear! I will grant that 0.5% of students in any given class have an immediate and pressing appointment. But you probably don't. And you signed up for the class. So sit the fuck down and attend it. You are not more important or valuable than your professor. You just aren't.

2.) Taking up two seats on the bus. Okay, look. The bus is small and often of a temperature that's an ill match with the season. And above all, no one likes to touch strangers. We just don't. I, especially, do not like to touch strangers. Some of us do, and they probably ride the bus in the middle of the day, but we're not dealing with those folks in this particular case. No, I'm talking to people who--like me and the rest of the world--don't like to touch strangers but who go to inconsiderate lengths to be sure that other people will have to touch strangers before they will. You know the bus game. People fill the bus in a checkerboard pattern, taking all the seats that don't have anyone next to them (much like urinal selection, I'm also told) until this is no longer possible. Then people have to start sitting next to other people. Some try to avoid having their neighboring seat taken by placing a backpack or shopping bag there and then becoming "absorbed" in some kind of reading material or window-gazing and pretending not to notice that the bus is filling up. You know what? Just because you went shopping doesn't earn you an extra seat. The bus is actually quite often used to take people to the store. And I don't think they built it with 25 EXTRA SEATS FOR TOTE BAGS. You are not more special than other people. You're not. Other riders simply move to the aisle, leaving their window seat open but inaccessible. Listen, the likelihood is that eventually the bus will fill up and you will have to touch a stranger. All your delaying does is cause kind people like myself, who also don't want to touch strangers, to pay the price of touching them first. I'm not sure if this makes me so mad because it's rude or because I secretly wish I had the stones to do this, because I hate strangers so much. BUT OH MY GOD MOVE OVER.

3.) Poor door-holding etiquette. This comes in two forms. First are the people who walk through a door in front of you without looking back to see if there's someone behind them to hold the door for. This results in the familiar door-slamming-shut-just-out-of-your-reach problem which is actually worse than walking up to a closed door, because you do this awkward little lurch to get to the door, but then you miss it, making you both mad and embarrassed. No good. Far worse, however, is the second type. This takes the form of a person--oft-accompanied by a cell phone stapled to the side of the head--walking behind you. You, being the considerate sort of chap you are, hold the door open for the person walking behind you, waiting that extra second or two for said person to reach out their very own hand and take the door as they pass through it. Only, this particular douchebag doesn't put her hand out. No, no. She just walks on through the door, past you, and out into the world (or library) without even looking at you, much less saying thank you. This one baffles me. Are there really people in the world who have no trouble using their fellow human beings, who are simply extending a kindness they are not obligated to extend but do, as butlers? I have particular trouble handling the several-years-younger-than-me, several-brains-stupider-than-me fucking chippy talking on a cell phone and wearing a puffy coat that's wider than it is long ASSUMING I am there to hold her doors. ONE OF THESE TIMES I AM GOING TO CHASE YOU AND STAB YOU IN THE NECK AND YOU WON'T HEAR ME COMING BECAUSE YOU'LL BE LISTENING TO YOUR DADDY TELL RACIST JOKES ABOUT YOUR ACTUAL BUTLER WHILE YOU WAIT FOR AN OPENING TO ASK FOR MORE MONEY TO BUY A NEW, PUFFIER COAT. Agh.

Reach out. And take the fucking door. You are not more special than me. And you won't look as cute with a broken nose.

Don't all three of these problems really boil down to people thinking they are more special or more entitled than other people? Maybe we should all take a generation off from telling our kids that they're special. And send them to summer camp on a socialist farm.

Just hold the door.