This Guy Is Worse Than “Red Asphalt”

, , , , , , | Learning | July 29, 2020

When I was in high school, our school offered a driver’s ed course. It was a classroom-only course to learn the rules of the road; there was no practical driving in an actual vehicle. I’m convinced that the teacher they’d chosen for this class hated teenagers. Why he was teaching in a high school, I’ll never know.

On the very first day of class, he told us all that he “believed that no teenager should ever drive a car” and that his own teenage son was forbidden from taking a driver’s ed course until [Teacher] was satisfied with how much he knew about driving. I always wondered how the poor kid was expected to learn enough to satisfy his dad without taking any classes. 

Throughout the class, the teacher would tell us graphic stories about what would happen if we drank and drove, used our phone while driving, or even had the radio on in the car. Here are some of my favorites.

He described getting into a car accident and getting thrown through the windshield because, of course, we aren’t wearing seatbelts. This one included a handout with a graphic play-by-play of the horrific damage done to your body from one moment to the next. 

He described taking a run turn too quickly on a motorcycle, losing control, and crashing into a cornfield. In this particular lovely scenario, both of our legs are broken, so it takes three days to drag ourselves back to the road so anyone can see us to rescue us. I’m not sure how far into this hypothetical cornfield he imagined we’d be thrown.

By the end of the five-week course, half of the fifteen- or sixteen-year-old students in the class that had been so excited about getting a license were now completely terrified of going anywhere near a vehicle. 

This was a fine example of a teacher with no interest in teaching. He didn’t want teenagers to drive, and he certainly got what he wanted. I don’t think a single one of us felt prepared for behind-the-wheel practice after that class.

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You’d Better Return Your Time Turner

, , , , , | Learning | July 28, 2020

My senior year of high school, I have two study hall periods. About a week into the school year, one of the guidance counselors approaches me during study hall.

Counselor: “[My Name], why haven’t you been attending cooking class?”

Me: “Because I’m not taking cooking class?”

Counselor: “You’re on the class roster and you’ve been marked absent every day.”

Me: “That’s weird. It’s not on my course schedule.”

Counselor: “Huh. Did you sign up for it?”

Me: “No. I signed up freshman year, but I switched classes a couple of weeks in, and I definitely didn’t sign up for it this year.”

Counselor: “Do you want to take it?”

Me: “No.”

Counselor: “Okay, I guess we’ll remove you from the class, then.”

It was admittedly unusual for a student to have two Study Halls, and I initially assumed that the cooking class took place during one of my two study halls, but I later learned that it actually shared the same time block as my AP Calculus class. Apparently, I was supposed to be in two places at once. Very strange.

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His Excuses Are Almost As Bad As His Grades

, , , , , , , | Learning | July 26, 2020

When I was in high school in the 1970s I got “stuck” in a different math class than I should have been in because of scheduling issues with other classes I was taking. I was a sophomore but almost the whole rest of the class was seniors.

Many of the seniors were not hard-working, let alone among the brightest students, and so we had to submit homework or some assignment almost every day. The teacher was a no-nonsense guy who was tough but fair and I had had him for a previous class and liked him.

There was this one total loser dude in class who never, and I mean never, had his homework done. Every day he had a different excuse, yes, including that his dog ate it. The teacher quite obviously — to me, anyway — never bought any of the excuses, though the loser dude and his buddies seemed to feel he was pulling one over on the teacher.

After a while, the teacher would start class where we had assignments due with something like this:

“So, Mr. [Dude], what happened to your homework today?”

“Oh, uh, [Teacher], it, uh, got sucked out the window of the bus on the way to school.” 

He drove to school.

Dripping with sarcasm, the teacher would reply, “Oh, no, Mr. [Dude], how terrible.”

Then there would be snickering among [Dude] and his buddies.

I saw the teacher with [Dude]’s parents at the next parent conferences and they did not look happy.

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This Teacher Gets An F

, , , | Learning | July 24, 2020

Ever wanted the evidence that your teacher is biased? My drawing professor has had it in for me since a routine teacher-parent meeting went pear-shaped. Ever since that meeting, no matter how well I do, my grades are never above a D. We’re given a particularly complex assignment, and I turn in my drawing.

Teacher: “This is not good. You’ll have to redo it.”

Me: “Where is the mistake?”

Teacher: “There is no ‘mistake’. It’s all wrong. You must redo it.”

Being stupid, and knowing the drawing is far from my best effort, I redo it and turn in the new one.

Teacher: “This is wrong again! You’ll have to do another one.”

I’m fed up with the stupid drawing, which is making me neglect other subjects. I ask for my uncle’s help He’s a professional draftsman and he presents me with a beautiful, precise, clean drawing that has very obviously not been made by a high school student. However, I hand it in and the teacher grades it 8+.

A few weeks later…

Classmate #1: “[My Name], remember that drawing assignment we were given? How about you do the assignment for me? I’ll pay you!”

Me: “No, if I have to draw that thing once more, I’m gonna puke. You can have one that I did, but be warned, it’s wrong, so you won’t get a good mark.”

Classmate #1: “Oh, don’t worry about that. Just give it to me.”

She hands in my second, “wrong again” drawing: it’s graded 8. A few weeks later, another classmate, a notorious slacker, asks for my help, too.

Classmate #2: “[My Name], remember that drawing assignment we were given?”

Me: “I do. Five thousand lira. In advance.”

I gave him my first “all wrong” drawing, which I had not binned yet. His grade? 8-. I ended up the year with the non-passing grade of 5, the only one in my class.

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Unfiltered Story #201358

, , | Unfiltered | July 22, 2020

I worked a bake sale my high school was having, during parent-teacher interviews. We’re also selling raffle tickets to win things like gift baskets. A woman walks by, and my friend who was working with me says hi. The woman responded with the coldest “no” you could ever imagine. I wanted to say something but I thought she had said hi at the time.