People feel sorry for me

It looks like a paper bomb exploded all over my table (which is actually two standard coffee tables pushed together to make one large "super table"). I've refilled my also oversized tea cup more than once here at the Fillin Station, and the second time I did so, the gal working let me go behind the bar to do it myself since I pratically pay the mortgage here.

I imagine that seeing me working today is a little comical. I mean, I have had a paper clip in my mouth for the last 3 hours as I transfered scores from graded work into my gradebook. That isn't what people comment on, though. It is most likely the multiple piles of papers surrounding my laptop, which is strategically positioned behind my gradebook, which is, of course, directly in front of me, that interest them. Or maybe it is the user manual for an Oster blender that is resting on the table to my right (an extra credit submission from a Tech writing student). My keys are also somewhere in this mess. I have no idea what is most entertaining, but two gentlemen have felt compeled to say something.

The first gentleman, who I have seen in here a fair amount, walked past my table on the way out and said as he scanned the piles, "I teach speech [pause], and I am happy about it."

The second individual, one I have not seen before, continued to look at me and my piles as he passed my table. He met my eyes right before he turned to focus on a place to sit and simply said, "I'm sorry".