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“Look, dude, there’s clearly a social contract here. I’ve been in that seat every day since the start of the semester, it’s just common decency. Plus, that’s my shelf.” He gestures to the shelf in question.
The seat-stealer crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. He looks Namjoon up and down, slowly, obviously, somehow satirically.
“Look, dude,” he says with scathing emphasis. “Social contract theory is outdated, simplistic, and completely unsuited to analysis at the interactional scale. Find another place to sit.”
[namjoon is already struggling enough just to write his dissertation and finally finish grad school, the last thing he needs is to have his routine interrupted by an unfairly pretty library gremlin. right?]
