Ever think you're the only one laughing at your jokes in chem lab? Ever think that maybe that question you asked was, in fact, not burning through anyone else's skull during your anthro lecture? Congratulations—you may be ""that guy"" in your classes.
There are a few telltale characteristics in order to be ""that guy."" First of all, you must have a delightful yet painfully annoying little in-class quirk that is either a) a pet peeve for the majority of the population, b) soon to be a pet peeve for the majority of your lecture hall attendees, or c) a total ""that guy"" thing to do.
I've got a few personal favorite ""that guys"" who have all touched me in special ways. And no, I don't mean like the way Uncle Clem used to touch me before he had to go away with the authorities. I mean touched me in the psychologically unbearable way, the way in which you can only shake your head, turn to your friend and say, ""he is such a ‘that guy'...""
The first ""that guy"" of my collegiate experience came during an especially painful 8 a.m. power lecture in English. On top of having to be functional at eight in the morning, I had a ""that guy"" who routinely walked in around five minutes late, magically finding his way in front of me EVERY DAY. He would then proceed to fire up his laptop and type incessantly on his various role-playing game message boards, let his mind wander with erotic Warcraft fan fiction and gorge on his latest prepackaged snack. After the eroticism and hunger had worn off, ""that guy"" would promptly call it a day, snoring quite loudly in our modest lecture hall of 200-plus students while the professor tried not to notice.
And I haven't even gotten to the punchline: ""That guy"" was in my very next power lecture. And it gets worse: His kind had spread. In the next lecture, another ""that guy"" sprung up in the front row, possessed to insert his own commentary or witticism after every third sentence the professor managed to get in edgewise. His need for attention, undoubtedly spawned from four years of high school ridicule, manifested itself in the form of dry humor about British literature, informal conversations with the teacher when he feigned asking a question and referring to himself in the third person.
Their kind is only growing larger. I've now come across a ""that girl"" on campus. Yes, I kid you not. They're going global or something. However, the criterion for ""that girl"" is slightly different than ""that guy."" They can be defined as any girl who doesn't return my calls, breaks up with me for no good reason and is named ""Sherry."" The fact that she's my promiscuous ex-girlfriend is no coincidence. She's simply a ""that girl"" in my eyes, and I will refer to her as such. And no, this is not me being a bitter ex. I just didn't notice that she was a ""that girl"" until we broke up. I also didn't notice that she was a two-timing harlot.
But don't fear, Madisonians. There are ways to thin the ranks of ""that guy"" in your lecture halls and discussions. First off, I'm pretty sure they are vulnerable to bullets. Also knives. If either of those don't tickle your fancy, I've got other methods of ridding your lectures of ""that guy."" Most ""that guys"" feed off of some sort of Internet connection to fuel their immature and phallic sense of humor. If you can find any way to disable the wireless network in the building in which your lectures reside, you should be in the clear. If your ""that guy"" does most of his damage offline, consider wrapping both hands around his esophagus and pressing down firmly.
If homicide isn't your thing, then I've got one universal rule: Do not humor them. Do not provide even a casual chuckle to their jokes or tolerate their obnoxious Warcraft fan fiction. If need be, find out their chat room username, message them, and make very awkward sexual comments about how you, too, wish to be fellated by an orc. That should stop ""that guy"" in his tracks.
Have a ""that guy"" story of your own to tell Jon? Send him an e-mail at spike@wisc.edu.
