Spazzy McGee

Spazzy McGee is a name I have bestowed upon a male Nurse Practitioner who not only attends every single training class I am in, but feels it necessary to sit next to me at every one.

Spazzy enters the lecture 30 minutes late. He gracefully makes his entrance by creating a loud vortex of stomping feet and rushed movements proving that he was too important to arrive on time. In a state of upheaval, he pulls out his macbook pro, phone, pager, various papers, and writing utensil which inevitably spill into my desk space. Politely (though thoroughly annoyed) I shove them back the three feet to his desk space. After five minutes of disruptive behaviors which vaguely resemble getting prepared for the lecture, he answers his phone (during the class) and loudly stomps back out of the lecture hall. This very scene will happen 3 times over the next hour and a half.

Unfortunately, Spazzy returns. His return is heralded by the loud stomping steps he must take to announce his return. He flops down and loudly sucks his nasal cavity into the back of his throat. He turns to me:
“Where are we?” he asks loudly.

Irritated at his return I whisper in response, “About 45 minutes in.”
“No,” he says at full volume. “Where is the speaker in the power point?”

I would like to smack this guy in the head for sheer lack of manners. “She’s there” I say sarcastically pointing to the projector which obviously had the power point displayed.

Spazzy starts laughing loudly at my response. He then begins a seated dance which ends up lasting for a solid 25 minutes. This dance includes jiggling his legs back and forth (not bouncing his feet, JIGGLING is legs), bobbing his head up and down like a chicken, and loudly tapping out his favorite rhythm on the desk. At this point, everyone in the room dislikes this guy. Even the speaker isshooting him dirty looks.

During Spazzy’s dance, he decides he is bored with the lesson and needs to check his email. His chicken-head-bob stops long enough for him to lean all the way into his computer screen until his nose is touching the screen. He stares and stares. Finally he resumes a ‘normal’ sitting position and continues his chicken dance. He angrily types out an email.

Once the angry email had been typed Spazzy dials his phone and has a fair amount of conversation as he stomps back out of the lecture hall.

The class heaves a sigh of relief. But it doesn’t last long.

Soon, Spazzy returns with three plates of food. One plate holds his very large pretzel, another plate holds a huge serving of cantaloupe, and the third plate is a large mound of cheese. Spazzy grabs five or six chunks of melon in his hand and shovels all of it into his mouth, finishing off this grotesque display with a large slurping sound. Spazzy continues to cow his food, washing each bite down Napoleon Dynamite style by tilting his head all the way back and gulping his beverage.

After Spazzy has satisfied his appetite he, once again, sucks back whatever has crept into his sinuses since the last evacuation. Spazzy puts his hands behind his head and begins leaning back in his chair, rocking so far that in no time at all, his head is resting on the desk behind him. At this point, Spazzy begins talking to himself in response to the speaker. “Ah yes,” he says. “But of course!” he muses.

All of this I could handle. As annoying as he is, I could put up with it for the greater portion of the lecture. What I couldn’t handle was when Spazzy took off his shoes and placed his stocking feet on my chair so his grodie, nasty, stinking feet were touching the outside of my leg. This I could not stomach.

I stood up in the middle of the presentation and loudly whispered to him, “You have GOT to be EFFING KIDDING me!”

I moved across the classroom and was able to catch the last 30 minutes of the 2 hour lecture.