(I work out at my college’s student recreation center, which has a VERY strict sexual harassment policy. One complaint against you and you are banned for a year with no exceptions. There is one female student who works out there and has made about a dozen claims against male students; all of them have claimed they only talked to her. I have just been assigned to a group project working with her.)

Female Student: “Hey I recognize you. You work out at the rec-center don’t you?”

Me: “Ya I do. I’ve seen you there a few times.”

Female Student: “Well, why haven’t you ever come say hello?”

Me: “Well to be perfectly frank, most guys there are kinda afraid; they don’t want to get banned.”

Female Student: “Oh please, I only ban the ugly ones. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Me: “Wait, did you just say you get people banned on purpose? Like they don’t actually harass you and you still report them?”

Female Student: “Well, I mean just the out of shape ones. I don’t go to the gym to look at fatties.”

Me: “You don’t feel bad at all about what you are doing? You do realize that you are getting people banned for a year and that having a report on you for sexual harassment kind of hurts with the job hunt?”

Female Student: “Not my problem that they look gross.”

Me: “… I think I’m going to go ask for a new group.”

(The professor overheard our conversation and spoke to the rec-center manager. The people that already had bans kept them, but all future complaints by her were more thoroughly investigated. She was caught trying to get a guy banned who had never been even talked to her, and she lost her gym access herself.)

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(My daughter is starting high school, and she has just had her freshman orientation. I go to pick her up from school during my lunch break, and I have to get back to work soon. As we’re leaving the parking lot, there are about 10 buses lined up next to the sidewalk. There’s a fairly large amount of room next to the buses, as it is a road out. The buses are not in the road.)

Bus Driver: *beeps horn* “You can’t cross the red light!”

Me: “I’m not, I’m on a different road than where your buses are parked.”

Bus Driver: “YOU CAN’T CROSS THE RED LIGHT!”

Me: “I have to get back to work soon, and I’m not in your way. Please let me go.”

Bus Driver: “If you cross the red light you could kill someone!”

(There is nobody in front of the buses, or my car. By now, there are about 30 cars behind me, waiting to get out.)

Me: “I need to get my daughter home, and I’m not in your way. Just let me go.”

(I start to leave, and the bus driver starts beeping loudly and yelling.)

Bus Driver: “YOU CAN’T CROSS THE RED LIGHT! I’LL WRITE YOUR LICENSE PLATE DOWN AND YOU’LL BE FINED $450!”

Me: “There is no need to do that! I’m not even in your way.”

(By now, I’m already late back to work, and I still haven’t left the parking lot. Thankfully, the school principal comes to talk to the driver.)

Principal: “You need to let these people go, they’ve been waiting for 15 minutes and you’re holding them up.”

Bus Driver: “But they can’t cross the red light! Its illegal! They could kill a child!”

Principal: “All of the children here are already in the buses or are waiting in the car for you to let them go. Just let these cars pass and we can get your buses out of here, okay?”

Bus Driver: “But they can’t cross the red light!”

(The principal ignores the driver and signals us to leave. Once I get home from work I call the bus company to complain. I sure hope that the mean driver isn’t my daughter’s bus driver!)

(I have a disabled friend who, due to a problem with her legs, can only walk very slowly. One day after gym, another girl is walking behind her and kicking her in the legs.)

Girl: “Hey, move, you stupid f***! Why are you so f****** slow? Move before I break your f******* legs!”

(I decide I’ve had enough.)

Me: “Hey you! Leave her alone! What’d she ever do to you?”

Girl: “Shut the f*** up before I beat your a** too!”

Me: “I don’t want a fight and neither do you. So I’m asking you nicely: leave her alone.”

Girl: “So, you want your a** kicked too? All right.”

(She kicks me and I elbow her. Within a minute, we’re in a full-blown fight, punching and kicking. I end it by punching her in the face hard enough to give her a bloody nose and busted lip.)

Girl: “Ooooooh! She busted my lip! OWOWOW! Help! Somebody help me! She’s a monster! She bullied me and she beat me up! HELP!”

(A teacher shows up due to all the commotion.)

Teacher: “What the h*** happened?”

Girl: “She was bullying me and she beat me up! I couldn’t defend myself!”

Teacher: “[My Name], I’ve never known you to do anything like that. Is this true?”

Me: “No, what happened is that she was kicking [friend] and threatening to break her legs. I asked her pretty nicely to stop, and she started swinging. I was just defending [Friend] and myself.”

Girl: “No she wasn’t! I was just minding my own business and she started hitting me!”

Classmate #1: “No, that’s not what happened! [My Name] is right. [Girl] was messing with [Friend] first. And she started hitting [My Name.]”

Girl: “That’s not true! Not true! She just beat me up! I wasn’t doing anything to the cripple!”

Classmate #2: “It IS true. And this b**** better stop lying before she gets a second bloody lip.”

(Of course, the teacher has to call for security and everyone involved is taken to the vice principal. After hearing the story and having witnesses say I’m right, the vice principal believes me.)

Vice Principal: *to me* “We don’t tolerate physical violence here, so I have to give you some sort of punishment. Yours will be… hmm… writing an essay on how to win a fight. It had better be well-researched.” *to Girl* “And you’re suspended for harassing a disabled student. Now go to the nurse and get out.”

(I’m taking flying lessons at a local flying school. Class has just started, and our flight instructor is lecturing us on the theory portion.)

Instructor: “Flying is really easy once you get the hang of it. It’s a lot like driving a car.”

(Much later, it is time to start actually flying. My turn comes up, and we’re just about ready to move. We’re still on the ground, but we need to move on to the runway.)

Instructor: “Alright [My Name], start steering to the right.”

(I’m a little nervous about flying for the first time, so I start steering the handle in front of me, which does not do anything at all. Although it looks like a steering wheel, it’s actually for controlling the ailerons.)

Instructor: “What are you doing that for? It’s not like driving a car, you know!”

Professor: “Can anyone tell me what the national bird is?”

Student #1: “The bald eagle.”

Professor: “That’s right! Benjamin Franklin actually wanted the national bird to be the turkey. But the ultimate decision was up to Charles Thomson, and he didn’t think the American people would go for a turkey.”

Student #2: “Really? I think people would’ve gobbled it up!”