It seems as though Butler is the place to go if you want to get peeved. The first part of the series actually occurred right here in Butler.

This time, we have a serious health and safety violation in Room 210. It’s well and truly past midnight, and I have a paper due tomorrow. I am very prone to getting peeved. A few nerds away from me sits a guy whose face, for some reason, screams, “I’m an inconsiderate asshole.” He’s sitting there, sweating, an oily shine all over his face, and letting out an earth-shattering cough—smothering “Everything in Its Right Place,” which I am blasting to try to fight against the bellowing sounds of his sporadic coughing that is echoing through the room. He’s not even covering his cough with his arm or mouth. Which sub-par parents raised this kid?

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An hour or so has passed after a rather hearty meal and so my body advises me to make an important bathroom visit.

When I get to the bathroom, only one stall is vacant. I enter, strategically place toilet-paper around the seat, and commence. Moments later, more and more people enter to see all the bathroom stalls occupied. Obviously people had dinner at similar times and their digestive/excretory systems work on similar clocks.

All stalls are locked and a nice occupied sign is there to remind people that someone is in the stall. Unfortunately, for three very special people, this was not that obvious. Three people came up to my stall, wiggled and jiggled the bathroom door, knocked and asked “is anyone in there?”

I was flabbergasted. Would you, dear sirs, like to crouch down and have a peep to see if I’m there? I’ll wave and blow you a kiss.

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