What is so special about that seat in front of me?

Huh?  You have plenty of seats to choose.  Plenty. And yet, every single freaking time I need to be looking at a powerpoint/stage/show/movie screen/presenter you sit in front of me.

YOU.  The tall/fat/big hair/smelly or the-awkwardly-shifting-side-to-side-the-whole-time-person.

Always.  Without fail.  You're right there.  Wherever I need to direct my line of sight.

It doesn't help that I'm short, I know.  Or that I would prefer to slouch in the seats of a theater.  Some of these things are my fault.  But seriously, if there's a whole row of seats, and you choose the one directly in front of me, every time.

It's not just one person, or one instance.  Just to make this clear.  This happens to me all of the time. All of the goddamn time. 

Now I understand the powerful draw to want to be around me.  But seriously.  Sit behind me.  So I can see.  I don't particularly like the view of the back of your head.

Especially when I need to be taking notes.

I move to the side.  So do you.  I want to strangle you out of frustration.  I move again, so do you.  So I stay still.  And you settle in.

...And I feel as though I'm being tormented for a reason; one that I can't quite put my finger on.

Soon I'm going to need a neck brace from having to stretch my neck to see around you.  And for the love of all that is furry- wear less cologne.  I feel like I'm in a jet stream of the horrible burning scent of desperation.

This is my view of the world.  It might be worse than being color blind.

I mean, look at it.  It's like 50% of my vision is impaired at all times.  

The next time this happens I swear I will silly string the back of your head.  Mostly because I like silly string.  And I imagine it would be funny.  To me anyway.  I HOPE IT WOULD BE DEVASTATING TO YOU.

I'm done ranting.