I was in calculus class in high school, third hour, so by that time I was awake and ready to learn. Because it was my hardest class, I really had to concentrate and use all my brain power.

One morning, right before class started, as I was trying my best to explain to my friends how my brain tends to be more active in this class than any other, I said out loud in earshot of the teacher and everybody else in class:

Me: “I don’t know what it is, but when I come in this class, I’m immediately turned on! Like I’m just so on right now.”

That went over well…

This took place in October 1984. Before I can go into the story, I must give you some background.

Shortly after I turned ten years old, I learned that I had a mild form of muscular dystrophy. In fifth grade, when my classmates found out about this, I instantly became ostracized. An eighth grader still not having friends and putting up with years of abuse from my classmates, I decided to try to earn some respect by becoming the equipment manager for the football team. This did work to earn me some respect, but it still does not make me any friends.

Fast-forward to 1984, my senior year in high school. 

Before every varsity football game, the varsity team would go to a nearby Ponderosa for dinner. Next to this Ponderosa was a convenience store. They had a couple of video games. The first couple who finished eating would play video games while some of the other team members would stand around and watch them. This one particular Friday, I happened to be playing a video game. 

A real jerk on the football team says:

Jerk: “So, [My Name], have you gotten rid of your stupid disease yet?” 

Me: “No, [Jerk], you’re still hanging around!”

There were about six other football players there at the time, and they all started laughing at the jerk.

Later, while we’re in the locker room, getting ready for the game, the other players kept calling him a disease. When the coach asked why, the captain of the football team told the coach what happened. For the entire game, the coach referred to him as a disease. He never spoke another word to me. 

My high school algebra teacher asked me to hang back after class.

Teacher: “I’m convinced you cheated on the last test, so I’m failing you.”

Me: “What?! I didn’t cheat!”

Teacher: “You got almost every question correct, but you didn’t show any of your work. You must have copied the answers from somewhere. Tell me where.”

Me: “I did them in my head.”

Teacher: “What?!”

Me: “I did the algebra in my head.”

Teacher: “You can’t do algebra in your head.”

Me: “No, you can’t do algebra in your head.”

That was probably not the best response, but I was angry. I made a complaint to the principal, via my parents. When I demonstrated that I could complete a new algebra question in front of them without writing down my work, the teacher was forced to give me my passing grade.

This is a story my dad told me about his psychology class in college.

In this classroom, one could look out the window and see a tree that was in the middle of a roundabout-like division in the road. Basically, a big patch of grass and a tree dividing a focal area of road that people had to drive around.

Professor: “[Dad’s Name], I want you to convince me that the tree over there exists.”

Dad: “Well, I can see it, I can touch it, I could taste it if I wanted to.”

Professor: “That’s not good enough. I’m not convinced that it exists. What else?”

Dad: “Well, we are talking about it, so we are aware of it; if I knocked on it, I could hear it…”

Professor: “That’s good, but I’m still not convinced. I don’t believe that the tree really exists. What else?”

Dad: “Look, when I drive home today, I’m going to drive down that road, and drive around that tree, and go home. You can drive down that road and continue going straight. Then you can tell your insurance agent that the damage to your car doesn’t really exist…”

We were doing a group exercise at university. There were five people (three guys, two girls) in our group, including a very alpha wannabe guy who was very passive-aggressive and desperate to show off to the girls in the group.

As another guy in the group, he took the opportunity to always talk over me and tried to tell everyone what to do. Every time the other guy or I suggested anything or put forward any ideas, he would interrupt with stuff like:

Wannabe Guy: “C’mon, don’t try and take over. We’re all working together.”

No one could be bothered to say too much to him because he would overreact and cause more disruption… so everyone just worked around him.

That was, until he finally talked over the other guy, who was making an important suggestion (that would eventually solve the main problem of the exercise):

Wannabe Guy: “C’mon now, man. There is no ‘I’ in team.”

Other Guy: “No, but there is a ‘U’ in c**t.”

The genuinely loud laughter from the girls he was trying so hard to impress was enough to make him shut up for the rest of the day.