The gal next to me is doing homework, and as she writes with her pen, her elbow slowly digs into my ribs, then releases to the next line. She is a human typewriter and just now realized it and apologized.
Across from me is a hipster wearing skinny jeans, a caramel-colored disco-era jacket, and foppish blonde bangs hanging in his eyes. He seems to have a malfunctioning tablet of sorts. Every few moments he flips shut the case and thwaps it a few times with his palm. With my headphones I wouldn't notice, but in this case it is heartily annoying. I may offer to fix it for him permanently.
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