Column: hallway etiquette


Photo by Allie Schmitt-Morris

Grace Yarrow, Copy Editor



An open letter to any student who has ever walked the halls of West High:

Dear literally everyone,

I’ve noticed you walking a few times. Whether you’re a freshman or senior, there’s a chance I’ve cussed at you under my breath when you step on my foot or walk slowly. If you’ve ever experienced the magic of Staircase Seven (you know the one I’m talking about–by the library door, with the huge windows), there’s an unfortunately high probability that you’ve experienced some of the worst “walking habits” ever.

Let’s start with the basics: the vast majority of the school has a locker where they keep stuff they are actually required to be in possession of. So WHY IN THE WORLD DO YOU THINK IT’S OKAY FOR YOU TO STRIP ME OF MY GOD-GIVEN RIGHT TO ACCESS MY LOCKER?! If you are standing in front of the piece of metal containing my food, let’s just say I will shoot infinite glares at you, occasionally pretending that my gaze shoots lasers into your incapable, feeble brain. But even worse than you taking an unnecessary pit stop in front of my locker is that one couple (you know, that couple) that is highkey MAKING OUT and standing in my way – which leads me to my next point: PDA.

I’ll be honest to start here: high school “romances” seriously freak me out. Not just because of the commitment levels, but mostly because everyone thinks it’s okay to impose their relationships upon everyone else surrounding them, including me. I don’t want to overhear your private conversations! I don’t want to watch you give each other a long emotional hug before going a whole 53 minutes without seeing each other! I don’t want to see you hold hands and gaze into each others’ eyes while I am trying to get to class and dodge you walking slower than my teachers put grades into PowerSchool! Also, while we’re at it, walk at a normal human pace. Don’t walk slow. I don’t have time for you.

Also, if you wear more than a necessary amount of perfume or cologne, please remember that everyone around you is well aware that you’re really a failure at life and need body spray to cover up your lack of dignity and the stench of your failure. While we’re at it, I will also remind you that if you hit me with your backpack I will hit you with my fist. In the face.

If you’re a freshman (or honestly, anyone) and you decide to take a stop in the middle of the hallway to talk to your friends, get out of my way. You are clumping more than the artery of a person who hasn’t gotten off the couch in 30 years. And I will also explode into a fit of rage, like that same clump of blood cells. If you don’t move out of the middle of the hallway, we will both end up in the hospital.

In the end, as long as you don’t get in my way in any of these aspects, I probably won’t be too violent. But still watch out: you never know.

Lots of love,

Grace Yarrow

(Fellow student and hallway-user)