Everyone knows that the main component of Thanksgiving is not the family, not the giving of thanks, but the food. On Thanksgiving, it’s all about the turkey. These wonderfully delicious birds fly under the radar every other day of the year and are frankly overshadowed by their more common peers: chicken and beef. But on every Thanksgiving, turkey is the centerpiece of the robust meal.
A certain kind of Douche McGee surfaces during this fattening holiday: the vegetarian douches. Now, I don’t see a problem with vegetarianism. It’s a fine practice, and an individual choice. However, there are some vegetarians who incessantly pressure others and attempt to guilt people into adopting their meatless ways.
There is a time for such ethical discussion, but that time is not on a carefree holiday that basically requires a buttered, marinated twelve-pound bird on a plate. My friend was filling me in about a particular Douche McGee who was invited to his house for Thanksgiving. Unfortunately, instead of exhibiting politeness and respect toward the other attendees, McGee started ranting about how he was a vegetarian who would not stand for eating turkey at Thanksgiving. He then commanded everyone to throw the turkey away. The host family was not pleased.
Could You Turn That Down?
Lectures. Love them or hate them, they are a necessary element of college. To the dismay of most professors, attention is easily lost in spacious, crowded lecture halls. A third of the class is paying attention to the lecturer, another third is sleeping and the rest are talking, surfing the web or finishing work for another class. This partitioning works as long as people don’t bother each other and the lecturer can finish his/her job.
Nevertheless, there are always some people who simply don’t get the picture. There was once this guy who loved his music a little too much. I was in lecture one day, actually paying attention. The professor (who is awesome, by the way) was lecturing as usual, but there was a slight audio disturbance around the middle of the lecture hall. It sounded like punk rock.
The professor definitely heard it, because she slowed down her lecture and scrutinized the audience for any obvious signs of who it was. Not being able to identify the culprit, she kept lecturing. She didn’t want to halt the flow of an entire lesson. Regardless, she would look back periodically with an increasingly annoyed facial expression. The soft, but audible punk rock was starting to disgruntle everyone else, too.
I scanned the room suspiciously and eventually spotted him: Douche McGee with his over-the-ear headphones on. Sound was leaking heavily from his headphones, and since the music was blasting so loudly, he probably didn’t even notice everyone’s hostile glaring. Someone finally attracted his attention and gave him a could-you-please-turn-your-headphones-down-you-are-bothering-everyone-in-this-room glare. His face flushed and he lowered his music’s volume, as requested.
Eric Ding is a sophomore in the College of Arts & Sciences. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org This Week in Douchebaggery appears alternate Mondays this semester.
Original Author: Eric Ding