Unfiltered Story #363016

(While I was in 7th grade, during a few P.E. classes we were allowed to bring in our own tennis rackets. I brought mine in since I wanted to use it, but accidentally forgot it one class. I go back to the teacher later in the day to see if it’s still there and if I can possibly look for it. It has the cover with it and an address stamp on it so I can easily tell if it’s mine or not.)

Me: I lost my tennis racket and I think it’s still here in the gym with the other rackets, could I look for it please? It has my name on it.

Gym Teacher: No, and you’re not allowed to look for it. You must have lost it somewhere else. (Granted, I don’t remember what she said exactly because it’s been over a decade, but that’s what it was essentially, she just refused to even let me look for it.)

(Later that year, on our final day of school, where the school had a games day that the 7th graders hosted for the lower classes, my friends and I were walking through the gym during our break. Near the bleachers are the tennis rackets so I go to look and see if my racket is in there. Lo and behold, it is. It even still has the address stamp that I used to attach to important stuff with my name, address, and phone number on it, and couldn’t be mistaken for anything else since it was nice and shiny and pink.

I took my racket out of there and took it back with me. Teacher never realized it was gone, and I was at that school, with the same P.E. teacher for 8th grade tool. Why she wouldn’t even try and let me look for it I have no idea why.)