Nick - Open Letters

Dear guy from the gym the other day,

When you lumbered up to me and asked, "Hey, do you have much more to do on that machine?" you had to have known that there were only three possible outcomes of the ensuing conversation. One, I would happily inform you that I was, in fact, done using this machine and that I would go away now for you to exercise in peace. Two, I would say that I was almost done before hastily doing a final set and getting out of your way. Or three, that I would tell you that I do have more to do on this machine so why don't you go try and take somebody else's.
This analysis leads me to believe that you were just asking on the chance that I would scurry away in a bid to avoid confrontation, leaving you in control of my pull-up bar. I suspect you were hoping that I would not respond with the third answer.
What you didn't know is that I have a pretty unpleasant cold, and you took to the bar before I could wipe it down. Joke's on you. I bet those undead malice-filled strings of RNA are rupturing your lipid bilayers right now.

Dear rest of everybody besides myself and maybe a few other college students,

There is no reason for you to have that many shoes. Let me explain what shoes are for: shoes can be for absorbing the pressure delivered to your feet while running, for preventing your feet from freezing, or for simply protecting your feet from things on the ground.
But by all means continue to spend money on buying cute name brand shoes for every outfit. I just want you to know that I will never ever notice what shoes you're wearing, and I wouldn't be able to care less if I did.
Also, can we talk about what holds a shoe on your feet? I've noticed that most shoes have ties. Why on Earth are we still using those? They look like an unattractive lump on top of your shoes, even when you tie them well. Plus we have to spend a week of kindergarten teaching all the kids how to tie shoes. And to add insult to injury, you probably have to re-tie them every couple of hours anyway. I always had velcro shoes up until 7th grade, at which point I couldn't understand why I had to downgrade. Fortunately I discovered birkinstocks and the rest is history.

Dear that-girl-who-I-see-in-the-dining-hall-every-so-often,

You are a constant source of amusement to me. Every single time I walk downstairs looking forward to eating dinner, you make a point of shooting a dirty look at me. There is a reason that my response is always to chuckle at you. You see, I've never talked to you and I don't plan on talking to you. So either you do this to everyone, or else something in the way I look and dress and eat elicits some sort of indescribable disgust in you, both of which are laughable possibilities. So by all means continue to make that face in me and I will continue to find you endlessly entertaining.

Dear readers of Classic Brian,

I think that I've now satisfied my whining for the week. Carry on. I will hopefully have something more substantive to say on Monday.

Sincerely,
-Nick.