I am majoring in [Major #1] at my university. I sign on as a Teaching Assistant (TA) early on and get on very well with all of the teachers. The lead teacher for the course, [Professor #1], starts jokingly telling me, “You’re fired!” any time I have a question or problem.

Me: “[Professor #1], this power supply seems to be busted.”

Professor #1: “You’re fired!”

Me: “This student needs a password reset for the online homework system.”

Professor #1: “You’re fired!”

And so on.

At some point, an additional instructor, [Professor #2], is hired, and he joins in the goofiness.

I continue as a TA for this course throughout my Bachelor’s degree and on into the first semester of my Master’s. My Master’s is a combined program for [Major #1] and [Major #2], but the actual degree will be in [Major #2]. For this first semester, I am working half of my time in the TA position and the other half assisting a [Major #2] professor with her research website.

My bosses in [Major #1] suggest that since I am now technically pursuing [Major #2], I should find work in their department fully and cease being a TA for [Major #1]. As I’ve been a TA in great standing for so many years and absolutely love it, I am fairly devastated.

Nonetheless, I follow their advice and end up getting an appointment to teach a full class the following semester in [Major #2]. This eases the blow, as I want to become a professor anyway.

I report the news to everyone at our next weekly TA meeting. [Professor #2] gets a huge grin on his face, like a child let loose in a candy warehouse, and says:

Professor #2: “Finally! After all these years, I get to say it for real! [My Name], you’re fired!”

In grad school, I worked the circulation desk at the library attached to the law school. All of the full-time reference librarians had law degrees as well as library degrees but did not work professionally as lawyers. They were legally not allowed to give out legal advice. They could help patrons find legal resources but they could not interpret the law.

Frequently, community patrons would try to get free legal advice from the librarians — or would come in and pester students who also could not give legal advice — and would get frustrated when the librarians would refuse. The librarians understood that sometimes people were in a tough spot, but it was not worth opening themselves up to a potential lawsuit should the patron later say they acted on the librarian’s legal advice.

One day, as I was at the circulation desk, I could hear the reference librarian speaking with a patron on the phone. He was obviously asking for free legal help, and she kept trying to explain that she couldn’t do that. If he came into the library, she could help him find resources and he was welcome to do his own research, but she could not interpret the law for him.

After several minutes of this, she eventually stopped and quietly hung up the phone.

Librarian: “Oh, my!” 

She saw my confused look and explained what the caller had been saying.

Librarian: “He finally got so angry with me that he accused me of being a member of the Klan and hung up on me! But the joke’s on him; I’m Catholic and they hate me, too.”

Back in my college years, I worked in the public dining hall. It was the dining hall everyone had access to, so customers included faculty and outsiders who paid with cash, as well as students.

Customers were, well, customers. Most were nice, some were weird, and some were downright awful. On this day, I was making sandwiches. We were in the middle of a rush. A customer had asked for essentially a tuna melt wrap: tuna and cheese heated up in a steamer and then put in a wrap. While there were many extra options to add, this one was very simple, so I made it quickly and called the number, and after around a minute, a woman came up to collect the plate.

Customer: “Excuse me.”

I looked up from the new sandwich I was working on.

Me: “Yes?”

Customer: “I asked for this heated up.”

Me: “I did heat it up.”

Customer: “Then why is it cool?”

Me: “Um, I assume it cooled down.”

Customer: *Looking pissed* “Then heat it up again!”

I reached for the plate.

Customer: “And I didn’t want any extra ingredients on it! Why did you put extras on it?”

Me: “Uh, I didn’t.”

She pointed to a green blob, looking vindicated.

Customer: “Then why are there peppers on it?”

I looked at the blob and then blinked.

Me: “That’s celery. It’s added to the tuna when it’s made.”

Customer: *Deflates* “Oh…”

I took the food, steamed it again, and then gave it back to her. She left without another word.

I was a subject librarian at a university. I received an email from a professor who had recently retired from another school and moved to our city. He wanted to donate decades worth of books and journals to the library.

This sort of thing is often a LOT more trouble than it is worth since much of the material will be old, duplicate, or online, but some of the stuff he described sounded good, and frankly, he might be someone willing to donate money to the university in the future if we built a relationship. Also, he understood and didn’t mind that much of the material would end up being discarded, so it seemed like it would be worth the trouble of a few months of sorting through the material.

Being a cautious soul, I checked all of this with the collection management librarian, the dean, and probably half a dozen others. Everyone agreed that it seemed like a reasonable decision and gave me the go-ahead.

I contacted the professor.

Me: “I have the approval to accept the gift. Where are the materials?”

Professor: “In my old house in [State halfway across the country].”

None of us had thought to ask that. The library had to pay for shipping.

My college issues ID cards that can be loaded with money and used at on-campus stores. I put some money on my card, and go to the campus coffee shop. It turns out that I didn’t do it right, and my card is declined.

Me: “Sorry, I thought I had money on the card.”

Barista: “That’s all right, here’s what to do…”

She explains the procedure.

The customer behind me, who I’ve never seen before, speaks up.

Customer: “I’ll pay for it; go ahead.”

Me: “Oh, thank you! I really appreciate it!”

Customer: *Condescendingly* “Now, next time, make sure you have money before you come in. I can’t always help you out.”

I didn’t ask for your help THIS time!