“We’re not starting class until everyone moves up to the front. Sit closer, I don’t bite!” I looked around at the five other students who still attend section, wondering if Ned really needed us to move closer. Was this another GSI power trip? I knew he wasn’t a biter, but he clearly underestimated the power of a now-annoyed undergraduate student who skipped breakfast this morning. Maybe I should teach him a lesson. My mouth began to water at the thought of sinking my canines into Ned’s freckled arm. The sound of his howl would truly be music to my ears as I’d leave him with a permanent tattoo of my chompers. Who is Ned to tell me what to do!?
So you go to office hours. You go, ready to see four months of buildup come to fruition.
I realize that my implicit association of the concept of jihad with the acts of political violence I will definitely inflict on you if you don’t fill out your course evaluation has the ultimate effect of fostering links between Islam and terrorism. As you have guessed, I don’t care, because I am Islamophobic.