Member-only story
Someday from five years ago, I was working on an assignment in a computer lab at UC San Diego. There was always a sign on the door reminding us not to talk or eat at any time in the lab. The lab was normally really quiet and clean.
Until it wasn’t quiet anymore. I heard music being played in the room. I turned my head around to see what happened.
Nothing in particular, I thought. Students scattered in the lab were either working on homework with serious looks on their faces or chilling with their headphones on. Where could that sound come from?
I listened in more closely to locate the source of the sound. I scoped down the target range to one guy, who was sitting a few seats to my left near the aisle. He obviously had his big headset on though.
Weird.
The music started to get louder. Other students in the lab, like me, started to look around and exchange glances with others to show our acknowledgment of the existence of that despicable member of the herd.
At some point, someone just has to tell that guy to turn the music down, I thought. Based on my spotless record on being nosy (after learning about the diffusion of responsibility phenomenon, the one thing that defines who I am), I stood up and was ready to make a move.
I gently walked towards the guy’s desktop and realized that he himself wasn’t in the know of what happened either.
