Dear Student,

You don’t know me, but I know who you are. You need to drop out of a class so I can take it. I’m number one on the waitlist, and I deserve it more than you do.

Look, it’s not like this is your fault. But it’s not mine either! Albert’s swap function promised to improve my life, and instead it was like New Coke—except the old Coke still sucked. Now I’m stuck with 12 credits. Student, help me. Leave that class.

Sure, I could find another class. I’ve heard that Jews in the Islamic World is pretty cool! Introduction to Celtic Music would teach me the difference between the Fleadh Cheoil and the Feis Ceoil. Or maybe a funky Gallatin seminar about memes or something? Even a practical class like Intro to Accounting! Those would be great classes. You should totally transfer into them.

I would take any of those classes—believe me, I would. But I am number uno on the waitlist! I can nearly feel the composite chairs on my ass. I can nearly feel the warm breath of 7 East 12th St.’s central heating. And do you know how phenomenal my schedule looks with that class? It would look like Tetris. Imagine entire blocks of perfectly-aligned days clicking into place. It’s enough to give Mr. Monk an orgasm.

So okay, let’s say you don’t want to leave. You like learning about fiction too, I guess. (Although, let’s face it – odds are you won’t get published anyway, or even write a book at all.) Do you know what that would do to my schedule? I would have to cut a day out of my internship, which means I’d have to drop it completely. This wouldn’t lose me any immediate revenue, but think of the chain reaction:

“Oh, Ari, you’re applying for this job! Your resume looks good…”
“Is there something wrong?”
“Yes, I don’t see you interned in the first semester of your junior year. Care to explain that lapse?”
“Well, you see, I got shut out of a class because a student refused to drop it, and had to adjust my schedule accordingly.”
“Ah, pity. How inconsiderate of him or her.”
“I know, right?”
“Well, luckily there are plenty of jobs in the acid mines.”

Do you really want to be responsible for that? You are pulling on the string that could unravel my life. I am pulling on the string that opens your heart.

You have an entire week to choose an alternate class. It’s not like Advanced Fiction functions as the cornerstone in your education. So gimme it. I just want to take that class. I want it. (Tuesdays at 11 AM.)