Bunch of savages in this town...

Countless times in the past nine months have I imprecated my fellow students at our residence hall. Scarcely a day passes that I am not witness to some new act that reeks of lack of consideration for others. And almost every day, almost without fail, one thought has run through my head, lifted directly from Clerks: Bunch of savages in this town. It's almost as if neanderthals never really died out, and instead chose to hole up in our building, secreted away and safe from the threat of civilization.

The latest caveman-ish act took place while I was making some tuna for lunch. A guy next to me in the kitchen couldn't figure out how to operate the can-opener, so instead of going through the strenuous effort of formulating a sentence and asking me if I knew how to use the can-opener, he simply gave up on the can-opener. In its stead, he grabbed a nearby steak knife and started to jab away at the can, alternately punching holes in the top and sawing away at the metal left between the gaps.

My mouth was agape at this entire display. It really was like some sort of caveman display had come to life, and had just been confronted with modern technology for the first time. Actually, the moment played out quite similarly to the arrival of the monolith near the apes at the beginning of 2001: A Space Odyssey.

The caveman finally finished, and he skulked off taking his sloping forehead with him. I can only imagine he went to heat up his soup over two sticks he had rubbed together on the back patio.