These are the five most annoying people you’ll meet at King’s before you graduate
If you’ve come across any of these, you may be eligible for reparations
University already feels like an uphill battle, but these lot seem to make it their mission to have us fighting for our lives. Whilst there are definitely more out there, you’re guaranteed to come across at least one of these by setting foot within a King’s campus. I have selected the most vexatious specimens, undeniably responsible for significant hair loss and countless sighs of defeat. Try not to pop a blood vessel as I introduce you to heathens annoying enough to rival the most hellish of flatmates.
We’re going to nit-pick from the get-go and call out the 99.9 per cent of the student body who have single-handedly appropriated and re-branded the term “keyboard warrior”. They’re simply inescapable. Be it a lecture, seminar, or the tube; sometimes I can even hear them in my sleep. Without fail, the keyboard smashers will be sure to document every breath and vowel uttered in the lecture hall beginning the fervent assault on their laptops before the PowerPoint has loaded.
They’re the human-adjacent to crickets, somehow overpowering the multiple speakers and contributing to the development of bad posture as the rest of us sticking to the good old pen and paper strain our necks to even hear the Windows startup. The most frustrating part of it all? They’ll essentially create a word-by-word transcript, which they’ll probably never look at again. So much for the in-person uni experience.
This one is bound to annoy even the most unbothered, we all know them, and we all hate them. Picture sitting through a gruelling lecture, wanting nothing more than to drag your feet back to your accommodation, maybe you have a seminar straight after, or you’ve been holding in a wee the whole time. You had your belongings gathered and ready 10 minutes before the lecture ended and you’ve already planned out your smooth escape. However, there’s only one obstacle, the final boss, the loiterer.
Somehow they always find themselves at the end seat closest to the door and appear to bring half of their earthly belongings with them. They’ll shamelessly, hold up a queue of antsy 100+ students to stuff their 50-piece stationery set into an aesthetic pencil-case miniature enough to put Brandy Melville’s doors to shame. If you’re truly unlucky, sometimes they come in packs, allowing them to adopt sloth-like characteristics as they chat about how excited they are to go home at a mind-numbingly slow pace.
Now, these are actual health and safety hazards, King’s should seriously look into getting speeding signs installed within the buildings. I’ve yet to see anyone survive an encounter with one of these, the sheer force with which they barrel into you for the sole purpose of making it to their lecture is bone-shattering. Whilst we’ve all inevitably done this at least once, it’s usually a suit-clad finance bro with tunnel vision, shouldering his way through a crowd of disoriented first years at the speed of light resulting in a black eye or two.
Whilst uni is hectic and no one likes the awkwardness of walking in late, there’s no reason why anyone should be fighting for their lives, dodging and weaving their way through campus just because you’ve decided to impersonate a roadrunner. Is being a little late ever that deep?
Even I can own up to this one, but are you truly a university student if you aren’t complaining 24/7? However, the serial complainer is truly a sentient black hole sucking all joy and motivation out of the atmosphere. They’ll complain about every lecture, topic, practical task AND assessment and do very little to fix the issue which is usually a relatively easy feat. Whilst this person is somewhat bearable, the true kicker is that usually, they’re the ones who get stellar grades.
They’ll preach day and night about “how little effort they put towards their degree” but they’ll still ensure that you find out about them passing with flying colours at the end of the semester. Listen, we all low-key know that the whole nonchalant, minimum-effort shtick is a cover for the fact that you stayed up for 48 hours for that first. It’s better to own being burnt out than to force relatability when you’d probably marry your degree if you were given the chance.
They’re the modern highwaymen, creeping up on an unsuspecting victim who’s probably minding a seat for their friend. No matter how many supplies you spread out, or how many chairs are missing, they’ll approach you and strike. The encounter tends to start with their shadow looming over you, the scrape of a chair, and then the spine-chilling question. “Do you mind if we sit here?” followed by a swarm of them hogging your precious table before you’ve even had the chance to respond.
These are arguably the most annoying within the list given that there’s really no “polite” way to deal with them unless social anxiety fears YOU. They’ll engage in some of the most intimate gossips of the century, making you feel like you’re somehow intruding on their privacy in some of the most public spaces on campus. I came to Chapters for a hot drink and maybe to finish a chapter or two of my reading for next week; instead, I now know every intricate detail of how a singular flat initiated the Chlamydia outbreak of the century.
Honorary mention: The speakers outside Bush House
Although they don’t really count as people, there’s nothing quite like headbutting a six foot metal Chupa-Chup on your way to a 9am lecture. Not only does their ominous lack of synchronisation make it feel like you’re walking into a dodgy summoning circle, I think we can all agree that we’ve wanted to box one of these on a daily basis.