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    Someone had been parking in my spot.

    Not that I have an assigned parking spot.

    I’m not even close to being that important, but there’s a certain spot in which I park every day. It’s the perfect spot because it’s directly under the overhang, so when it rains, I don’t get wet. When it’s face meltingly hot outside, my car stays cool in the shade. Like I said, it’s the perfect parking spot.

    For the last week someone has been parking in my spot. This has roused up an exorbitant amount of irritation in me. Even though I have no legal claim to that spot, I’ve claimed it as mine and it annoys me when other people park there.

    This reminded me of an experiment I did in college.

    In my public speaking class, my professor brought up the fact that her students always claimed a seat in the room even though she never assigned seats. From day 1 on her students would sit in the same seat and if someone took ‘their’ seat, they were offended and angry for the entire class. She challenged us one day to change seats in one of our classes and observe the reaction of the person who normally sat in the seat.

    Because I was young and foolish (do you like how I used the past tense there? As though I’m not still young and incredibly foolish) I thought I would try this experiment on a boy I thought was cute.

    Here’s how I thought the scenario would play out:

    I would get to class before cute boy. I would sit in cute boy’s seat looking so drop dead gorgeous that birds would be falling out of the sky because they would be knocked unconscious by my beauty. Cute boy would get to class and see me sitting in his seat. He would be so enamored by my beauty and boldness (I mean I’m sitting in his seat) that he would be compelled to talk to me. We would hit it off right away. We would realize that every moment in our lives has been leading up to this one. We would fall in love in 2.4 seconds. We would stay together throughout college. We would get married. We would tell the story of how we met to our grandchildren. We would die in each other’s arms.

    All because I sat in his seat.

    Here’s what actually happened:

    My first class got out late so I got to class five seconds before cute boy. Because I was rushing to get to class before him, I was sweating like a gorilla and my make-up was running. I ended up breaking my shoe. Cute boy got to class late, looked thoroughly peeved that I was sitting in his seat, and then had to shuffle past ten people in the front to get to an available seat. He never spoke to me. He denied my friend request on facebook.

    All because I sat in his seat.

    Eh, he wasn’t that cute.

    Yes he was.

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