(I am a petite, soft-spoken female math teacher. [Student] is a football player who is in tutorials because he is in danger of failing my class.)

Student: “Hey, miss, are you going to come to our game this week?”

Me: “Sure, I’ll come support you guys.”

Student: “If you come, do you know enough about football to follow what’s going on?”

Me: “Yes. I think I can follow it. Now can we get back to work on your math?”

Student: “You know, it’s okay to admit you don’t know much about football. I could explain it to you. You see, in football, you have the quarterback, and he—”

Me: “I manage three fantasy teams. I’m a little upset because this week Demarcus Ware injured his quad and is going to sit out for at least three weeks, which means I have to drop him in my IDP team. Now do I have to talk about what records Peyton Manning could break this year, or Matt Schaub’s tendency to throw pick sixes, or do you believe me that I can follow a football game?”

Student: *jaw hangs open* “…You actually know football, but you’re a girl. How do you know football?”

Me: “There’s lots of math and logic in football. It makes sense to me. Now maybe if you learn some of this math, it will make you a better football player.”

Student: “Yeah, okay…” *under his breath* “…how does a girl learn about football?!”

(There’s a kid in our class who does just about anything for money. One day, he gets asked to do something REALLY stupid.)

Student #1: “I will pay you $5 to snort a [popular sugar candy]!”

Student #2: “Done!”

(He proceeds to snort the popular candy and yells in pain but sniffles and snatches the $5.)

Student #2: “Told ya!”

Student #1: *grinning evilly* “I will give you $20 to snort habanero sauce!”

Student #2: “You got it!”

(The next day Student #1 brings in habanero sauce as promised, and Student #2 snorts it.)

Student #2: “Ha! I did it!”

(He snatched up the $20 dollars before his eyes went blank and his nose started bleeding. He was sent to the nurse where he collapsed; they had to have emergency services come and clean out the stuff from his nose. Turns out the hot sauce had pretty much melted the inside of his sinuses!)

(The classroom across the hall has left their door open, so I can hear what’s happening in French History.)

Professor: “…and what do you have on Tuesday?”

Class: “An exam!”

Professor: “So, what will you do this weekend?”

Class: “Study!”

Professor: “And what will happen if you don’t study?”

Class: “La guillotine!”

(My little sister and I attend the same college. She’s a sophomore and I’m a grad student. The class I am a TA for meets in the lecture hall right after my sister’s class gets out, so from time to time I talk to her as she leaves. One day after she leaves, a student in my class comes up to me.)

Student: “Ay [My Name], I saw you chattin’ with that fine a** b****. You hittin’ that?”

Me: “Uhh, no I’m not.”

Student: “Are you trying to hit that?”

Me: “No, because—”

Student: “Well s***, man, if you ain’t gettin’ after that, gimme her number.”

Me: “I don’t think so.”

Student: “What do you mean no? You can’t just hog a hot girl and not try to get it in. Gimme one good reason why not, man!”

Me: *getting right in his face* “Because that’s my little sister, and she has standards.”

(The student’s face goes pale and he backs away slowly. For the rest of the semester, he didn’t say another word to me and made as little eye contact with me as possible.)

(I am about eight or nine years old, camping away from home for the first time.)

Me: “Excuse me, can I ask where the bathroom is?”

Counselor: “Number one or number two?”

Me: “I don’t know. Whichever one’s closer?”

Counselor: “Quit being a smart aleck!” *walks away*

Me: “No, seriously! Which one’s closer: bathroom number one, or bathroom two?”

(The counselor realizes I’m serious, and ponders for a moment an appropriate answer.)

Counselor: “…Number one is standing, number two is sitting.”

Me: “Oh… Oooooohh!”