The 250 People You Meet at the Eighth Floor

–

Okay, sure, this article is dumb as hell. The grammar and composition is poor. I just saw it while fumbling through my old college files. Again, I found it interesting. So in case you were wondering how pitiful I wrote back then, read on:

Located 56 feet above sea level, it is not surprising to see how diverse Asia Pacific College’s engineering students are.

Ranging from total fashionistas to total weirdoes, the inhabitants of the 8^th floor of the APC Building prove to be one of best species of human beings that ever set foot on earth (not to offend leg amputees).

To understand us better, though we are so strange that it is virtually impossible to comprehend us clearly, here is a list of the basic groups of people that you have probably already encountered at the 8^th floor:

1. The Leibniz-wannabes

Here come the scholars.

An ordinary human being will find it very difficult to understand what goes through these people’s heads. Unconsciously, these Leibniz-wannabes find it impossible to sleep without studying 50 pages ahead of everyone else. They have this tendency to exaggeratedly learn everything they can due to the paranoia of failing, which we highly doubt happening to them.

Whenever something falls out of the sky, they exclaim, “Oh my gravity! Get out of there; it’s falling with a negative acceleration of 9.8 meters per second per second! Do you seriously want to kill yourself?” Yet, this is not the weirdest trait they have.

These cerebral beings don’t cram nor fail tests. But when they do, severe manifestations of manic depression happen; to the point that they actually hurt themselves by banging their technical pens to their heads.

The Leibniz-wannabe’s live on computations, electronics, and mathematics alone. Their sagging eye bags prove to be the effects of sleepless nights trying to disprove the Pythagorean Theorem.

But most of all, they hate seeing 3.5’s or lower grades on their report cards. These ratings poison them. They will not eat nor sleep for days due to the thought that they had failed the ancient religion of numbers.

In effect of their lack of sleep, the average time of death of this breed of engineering students is just about twelve to fourteen days after they have graduated (This is based from a not-so-trustworthy study conducted by the next type of engineering people.)

2. The Braindeads

These are somewhat the opposite of the Leibniz-wannabe’s.

The Braindeads don’t necessary loathe equations, it just so happen that their brain synapses are down. No matter how much they examine numbers and equations, these symbols practically appear invisible to them. Thus, they are also referred to as “Number-blinds.”

What’s more intriguing is that whenever they hear certain words such as calculus or antiderivatives, their noses bleed as if they where hit on the head by a ten-wheeler truck.

They don’t need extra hours of tutorials; this won’t have any effect on them. A few specific occurrences like a car accident or severe head trauma can possibly change their pathetic condition.

You definitely wouldn’t want to be like them.

3. The All-I-Can-Think-Of-Is-DOTA Type

These engineering students are the ones that can actually blend into the crowd and we won’t ever wonder what they’re going to do after class.

But every once in a while, we hear someone utter, “I’ m sure I won’t be the first blood next game!” which we have no idea about whatever he meant by those words.

That, my friend, is only a small part of a language only computer-gaming freaks know.

Underground, amidst the noises of the sacred land of Netopia, lies an arena for a new kind of engineering people. They are known as the All-I-Can-Think-Of-Is-DOTA Type.

We rarely see them attending classes, not unless the class involves computers.

From mirrors to points, gods to vipers, and pretty much everything you can think of, they can relate that to their addiction. So when examination time comes, they just might as well sleep and dream about new strategies for their next battle.

4. The D.N.E.’s

Does not exist

This term (also known as D.N.E.) is used to define numbers that are non-existent. But now, this also describes a certain kind of engineering folks that somehow disappear into the masses so unnoticeably that we are not even sure if there are students of this kind.

Inside classrooms, they hardly ever talk to anyone. They have a fear of being called by the professor to recite. They die each time they are requested to speak or just even show their presence.

They would rather talk to their own fingernails than to converse and have fun with other people.

They probably need some advice from this next type.

5. The I-Have-So-Much-Cash -I-Can-Even-Buy-My-Own-College Sort

The name implies that money is by no means their problem, and so is repeating subjects.

They are the ones who trade The Calculus 7 textbook for the latest issue of Teen Vogue. The only numbers that they know are those on the price tags of their signature clothing. And dating their boyfriends or girlfriends is a bigger priority than to review for the final exams.

They never worry about grades because their parents’ affluence is their back-up.

Though they may pass certain subjects once in a while, we just can’t imagine these guys passing the board exam and becoming engineers—which in every way is improbable (not unless their bribes work).

And last but not least (nor the most):

6. The Jugglers

Basically everybody wants to belong into this brand.

The Jugglers effortlessly balance their social lives with their grades.

They may not be as smart as the Leibniz-wannabe’s or as socially-obsessed as the I-Have-So-Much-Cash -I-Can-Even-Buy-My-Own-College Sort, but they can sure pass exams with satisfactory results and make friends with anybody.

They are usually the ones you meet and chat with at the 8^th floor.

Now that you know us a little further, I hope that every time you go astray our floor, you’ll be ready to deal with us, whichever eccentric variety we belong to.

That might just be the corniest and most ridiculous article you’ve read, so please forgive me. I’m spending more time deriving equations now, so I have resorted into recycling.

XXXxx