(We’ve just received instructions on how to ready a solution for one of our labs. Per the instructions, the solution needs to be heated to boiling in a microwave, and we have been told that it takes about a minute for one flask to boil. As there are only a few microwaves in the class, my classmates and I put multiple flasks in at once. After about a minute:)
Classmate #1: *concerned* “It’s not boiling!”
Me: “The microwaves are being distributed across multiple items, so it will take longer than what the TA told us. We just have to watch for it to boil.”
Classmate #2: *light-bulb goes off* “So that’s why my hot dogs are always cold!”
(These were all pre-med students, so I was very concerned for the future of our healthcare system.)
(Because it’s Sexual Assault Awareness Month, my college has been having a number of related events. I’m sitting in the Veterans’ Lounge when one of the SAAM coordinators walks in, intending to inform us about an interestingly-named presentation/Q&A panel.)
Coordinator: “Hey, we’re having Sex In The Dark right now if you want to come. There’s snacks! Bye.”
(As soon as she left, everybody burst into laughter at how poorly-phrased her invitation was, but hey, at least it was memorable.)
(In my music class, the teacher has a very strong hate for smoking, mainly because singing as a career can be ruined because of smoking. One day, the teacher asks for famous singers who died because of their smoking.)
Me: “Nat King Cole.”
Teacher: “Who?”
Me: “Nat King Cole? The guy who sang The Christmas Song, Orange Colored Sky, Night Lights, and Love Me As Though There Were No Tomorrow?”
Teacher: “Never heard of him. Must’ve not been famous.”
(For one English class, when we start the poetry unit, the teacher arranges the chairs into a circle around the room facing the middle instead of the usual rows. We are told to just sit in “any of the chairs.” Immediately thinking of a loophole, I sit in the teacher’s chair behind her desk instead of one of the chairs arranged in the circle. A few of the students start laughing.)
Teacher: “How does sitting in the chair feel?”
Me: “Horrible! I’m feeling underpaid and underappreciated! I think I’ll deal with my frustration by forcing innocent children to suffer by teaching poetry.”
(I am in the first day of a freshman-level college English class, where the professor is apparently required to start with the most basic grammar just to make sure every student is at the same level. I quickly learn that one of the professor’s quirks is making sure the students address him as, “Dr. [Professor],” not, “Mr. [Professor].” It doesn’t end with him correcting students who call him, “Mr. [Professor].” He then gives the following grammar example:)
Professor: “Subject, verb, object sentence: ‘I have a Ph.D.’!”
