Why high school students should never be allowed to chew gum in class. Ever.

Because that causes lasting damage.

To people like me, mostly.

After 7 years, I am finally ready to address a long standing issue that I have been dealing with for, well… 7 years.

Consider this-

In movies,  they can brain wash an assassin to spring into action upon hearing a special code word… Suddenly one day, years later, at a friendly picnic in a city park someone offhandedly says the word "pineapples", triggering Tony to snap, and attacks some foreign minister; turning the entire city into a playground of death and terror while running from the authorities with Angelina Jolie, trying to convince some sensitive detective figure of his innocence…

Ok, so that is basically what happens to me when I hear someone popping their gum.

Just one pop, and I turn from flower child

 into an effing werewolf.

Now let me tell you about the russian government brain washing part of this story, following my movie metaphor.

My junior year of high school, me and Megan sat next to [Pamela] during chemistry.

(Her name wasn't really Pamela but I suppose I shouldn't say who it actually was since there could be some middle aged, social networking junkie living in his mother's basement following my every blog, just waiting for the right time to proclaim his love for me. He could possibly find this to be an ideal moment, as slaying someone who has caused me such lasting trauma could be considered a display of loyalty. 

…I like to fantasize that someone out there enjoys my blog THAT much…)

So anyway, on the first day of class, me and Megan instantly noticed our neighbor, [Chelsea], had an obnoxious habit.

She literally inhaled and exhaled through gum bubbles.

As in, if just one bubble hadn't popped, she could have asphyxiated right there in class because that was the only way she breathed air.

I considered replacing her gum with latex around the 5th week of school.

But I digress.

So, Megan and I took several approaches to handling this situation.

First and foremost, was the initial response 17 pops into class- the sideways glance.

Now, the sideways glance usually makes most people immediately aware of themselves, however [Pat] seemed immune.

The sideways glance soon evolved into the sideways glare,

the sideways condescending glare, 

the blatant sideways eye bullet, 

the straight on "mean mug"

the straight on, open mouth "Seriously!?!" blank stare,

and eventually, Charles Manson Eyes... But that was mostly just from me, Megan doesn't have a sadistic bone in her body.

After eye conversation didn't work, 

we progressed to audible sighs of obvious discontent and irritation.

However, [Suzanne] didn't seem to notice this either.

Next, we moved to the polite request.

"Hey, could you not pop your gum please?"

And to no avail, [Annie], completely oblivious of how close she was sitting to my inner psychotic dragon, tried two minutes without popping, which must have been suffocation, and immediately blew a bubble the size of a baby's head to circulate oxygen back into her body.

Around this time, the end of the first 6 weeks was nearing, 

which meant another randomized seating chart for the next 6 weeks

 (because my teacher did that…???)

 so Megan and I rejoiced in the idea that though we may not be sitting together, that meant [Popsalot] wouldn't be sitting by us either.

However that next Monday, 

Me and Megan were sitting together again. 

With [Pepper] in between us.

Again.

And the following 6 weeks-

Megan was right in front of me, with [Whoreface] flanking on the side.

Every 6 weeks "computer generated randomized seating chart" went like so. 

It was like Minesweeper. 

Megan was that little smiley face square, 

and I was the little splatted smiley face with the tongue and X-ed eyes because 

[Gumdemon] was within a 2 chair radius. 

At the semester I finally threw in the towel 

and stayed after class one day to beg for a new seat.

I pleaded my case, and it was found invalid. 

Apparently my dramatic performance illustrating my intense hatred of [Bubbleslut] 

wasn't a good enough reason for my teacher to break her "randomized seating chart"

protocol. 

"No exceptions"

In hindsight, I realize now this was a small victory for my teacher.

She clung to that tiny slice of vengeance for the rest of the year,

knowing that no matter how miserable the class of 2008 made her,

there was at least one person in there who hated those 50 minutes as much as she did.

And for that, you're welcome. 

I'm so glad I could be the sacrificial lamb of 3rd period, constantly reminding you that it could always be worse-

you could be me.

 sitting next to [GumZilla].

In my mind my grades, my health, and my emotional well being suffered noticeably from the incessant mouth breathing of my neighbor. 

My teacher just thought I was being ridiculous.

Finally, junior year ended and I thought I was free from the

 gum-bubble-serial-popper-murderer of my soul. 

And I was. 

However, I was not free from the aftermath of her year long attack on my sanity.

To this day just the sound of one, singular bubble, popping and being sucked back into a mouth triggers an involuntary eye twitch,

 followed by an unbridled, blind rage.

7 years later, Megan will still freeze at my sharp inhale anytime she absentmindedly blows a bubble.

And that lasting trauma, my friends, is the reason why kids are not allowed to chew gum in schools.