NCC could use some Southern hospitality

By True Grimes

Excuse me, but you are sitting at my computer,” I whispered softly as possible while tapping the shoulder of the student wearing a western-style shirt and bootleg jeans.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I did not know you were already using this computer. No one was logged on when I took a seat.”

“That’s okay, there’s no way you could have possibly known, since I just now got here, after trudging up three flights of stairs carrying these heavy textbooks.” I remembered my mother always says be nice because it’s easier to “draw flies with honey.”

“Oh, since you just got here, why don’t you pick out another PC? I’m really busy and kind of in the middle of a project due in an hour.”

“No, I don’t want to select a different mainframe, because this is my central processing unit,” I was hoping that my superior knowledge of technical nomenclature would be impressive.

“What do you mean? Your name is not written on this computer anywhere?”

“PC-D15 is my workstation, where I regularly park myself.” It was amazing how official I sounded while remaining in a relatively calm state.

“Lady, what are you talking about anyway? It is not your workstation. It belongs to the college!”

Obviously, it was now time to get firm but remain polite and issue verbal warnings without becoming overly dramatic.

“Listen up, cowboy, I really am from Texas, where we still carry guns. Fortunately, for you, this school bans guns! Furthermore, I will not allow your disrespecting my special place, where my very best work is created. Now, go find your cattle and horses before I run this squeaky office chair back and forth over your muddy boots!”

“This is ludicrous and you are a senseless woman! Bully someone else and leave me alone. No talking. Didn’t you read the signs when you came in?”

There was no way I was giving up that easy before resorting to Plan B, which was retrieve a Computer Center student worker for assistance in repositioning the cowpoke elsewhere.

Mitch, one of my favorite “friendly and courteous” help desk assistants, had never heard of such a silly request before. Nor was it listed under his job description that unfortunately did include on-going, unpleasant tasks of enforcing the center’s “Quiet Policy”.

Because of having to “simmer down” continual disruptive, annoying, loud talkers and cell phone users who apparently lacked the concepts of published rules and reverence, Mitch had not been racking up new best friends in the Computer Lab lately. He definitely preferred punching copy cards and assisting students on software any time, to fulfilling his thankless role as a PC “bouncer.”

Eventually, after accepting that Mitch was not desirous of engendering extra enemies, I transitioned to a new locale and refocused on academics. I wondered, though, how fellow undergraduates defy perching at the front row in Chemistry, or serene table at the farthest point from the boisterous coffee shop. As a result, I struck out on a mission to discover how comrades enter personal space without force.

Scholar Ben G. could not imagine relinquishing perceived territorial rights to a total stranger unless “it was a girl. Then, she would have to be really, really pretty for me to get up and relocate. Or, she’d have to have one leg or something.”

On the other hand, when playing the role of assertive procurer, Ben said, “What kind of car do you drive? If their answer is, ‘I drive a red Jetta, why do you ask?’ Then my urgent reply is, ‘Man, your lights are on; you better go and turn them off right now!’”

Atom W. confessed that the germ-o-phobic trick, done Adam Sandler style, successfully increases private boundaries every time. “I’m sorry. I sneezed on this keyboard and really need to clean it off. Please let me clean off your keyboard.”

True diplomat Holly K. was found “not guilty” of ever confronting anyone for purely self-centered causes and did not think she ever would. Holly spoke in behalf of many students, who are simply content and appreciative when able to locate any available site, which are often scarce.

Another apprentice, requesting anonymity, said, “I would just make up some outrageous story and lie. It’s okay to lie if it is for something you want…just kidding!”

Nicole M. said, “I don’t think I could ever get up the courage to accost someone.” Therefore, acting out was recommended while “sitting as close as possible nearby and doing obnoxious things. Quietly sing in high-pitched tones and read and laugh aloud at emails.”

Justin B. optioned to handle the circumstances in a professional, businesslike manner,
“Is there any way I could convince you to let me use this computer and you go someplace else, before I beat you up?”

Regarding “flip out on them” maneuvers, Ben G. said, “Whatever you do, try other alternatives before threatening with violence, because schools don’t think that’s funny like they used to think.”

Before judging me, I must confess that the conversation between Cowboy and I never took place. Thankfully, the words played out only in my head, while standing wordlessly by from a distance and demonstrating good sense in keeping peace and my mouth shut simultaneously. It is funny, though, how swiftly we become creatures of habit, gravitating toward familiar, comfortable settings.

Anyway, who do we think we are to sit in judgment and restrict space for others exhibiting the same fine tastefulness that we have? Furthermore, how can we individually claim ownership and personalize space that does not rightfully belong to us in the first place?

A perfect example of this false entitlement is settling down “solo” right smack in the middle of a giant cafeteria table, originally designed to accommodate six. Spreading out notebooks and paraphernalia that encompass an oversized area is tantamount to silently conveying “Warning-Attack Dogs on Premises-No Trespassing.”

There is no justifiable explanation whatsoever for this space “hogging” and it is painful to recognize that I have been a big space hogger!

A more welcoming course would be set-up at inside chairs contiguous to windows and walls and confine worldly possessions to lesser parameters. Better yet, if willing to leave behind comfort zones, wave and invite someone over that is hauling a heavy load while desperately hunting down a relaxing location to rest awhile.

Even if we are the “first” to land a coveted corner, offering to split up a section is a sensitive, gracious gesture and an effortless manner in yielding new friends that set in motion the crucial process of networking. When you stop and think about it, all of us pay good money for books and tuition and are in this school thing together.

You will not believe this; on Thursday during lunch in the cafeteria, something out of the ordinary occurred. For a brief moment, I forgot about myself and displayed a little Southern hospitality. My new friend’s name is Julie.