Unfiltered Story #32742

Unfiltered | June 12, 2017

(I’m taking an elective class that my best friend took the year before. I collect my book only to find that the previous “owner” was my best friend. The teacher is a man in his early sixties, who enjoyed puns and dad jokes. In the very first class, he tells a riddle, which I answer. Note: My best friend and I are from a small village just outside of town.)

Teacher: “You’re [BFF]’s friend, aren’t you? Did she tell you that one?”

Me: “Yes, I am, but while she told me several jokes, she did not tell me that one.”

Teacher: *chuckles* “What is it with people from [village] and bad jokes?”

(The class goes on, until he tells us to open our books. My book opens to a page with post-it notes in it. I lift my book so that the spine faces the ceiling, and shake it. Several post-its fall to the desk, and the teacher and fellow students look at me.)

Teacher: “[my name], what is that?”

Me: “I’m not sure, but I think I just found [BFF]’s notes.”

Teacher: “Day one and she’s already given you jokes and notes. That’s everything you need for this class!


(The rest of the class continues as normal, and at lunch I drop the post-its in front of BFF.)

BFF: “What’s that?”

Me: “You tell me; I found them in my [class] text book.”

BFF: *realizing what they are* “OK, what are the odds of YOU getting MY book? There’s like a hundred copies of that!”