(The drummer in my band and I work at the same clothing store. One year in mid-January he is running a cash register and overhears this exchange between a mom and her son, who look to be about 12 or 13 years old.)

Mom: “I told you we’re not getting it because we can’t afford it.”

Son: “We can afford it; you just don’t ever get me nice things.”

Mom: “Excuse me? You want to remind me what you got for Christmas?”

Son: “Nothing!”

Mom: “A GIBSON LES PAUL IS NOT NOTHING!”

(Later in the break room.)

Friend: “Hey, aren’t Gibson Les Pauls really nice guitars?”

Me: “Yes. They are very nice, very expensive guitars.”

Friend: “That’s what I thought.” *relays story to me*

Me: “WHY ARE SUCH NICE THINGS GIVEN TO PEOPLE WHO DON’T APPRECIATE THEM?!”

(There’s one guy in my chemistry class who behaves so that we can never tell if he’s being funny or just stupid. It’s usually a mix of both. We are taking a test.)

Question #8: “Which item does the safety contract mandate you wear at all times during a lab? A) goggles B) lab coats C) flip flops D) pants.”

Student #1: *walks up to [Teacher]* “Hey, [Teacher], what’s the answer to number eight?”

Teacher: “We’re in the middle of a test, [Student #1]. I can’t just GIVE you the answer!”

Student #1: “But [Teacher], I honestly can’t tell. Are you sure it’s not a trick question?”

Teacher: *takes test, reads over question* “This is obvious! Did you even read the safety contract?!”

(At this point, the entire class has stopped taking the test to listen to the argument, which is by no means quiet.)

Student #1: “Well, you need to wear goggles, but pants are important!”

Teacher: “Which item is implicitly stated on the contract, [Student #1]?”

Student #1: “But pants are more important than goggles!”

Teacher: *mentally head-desking* “Seriously?! Tell me why you need to wear pants, specifically, in a lab environment.”

Student #1: “I won’t be allowed into school without them, and they’ll protect my legs if I spill chemicals on them, like this!”

(He then proceeds to march back to his table, backhand [Student #2]’s water bottle, and send it flying across the room, spilling partway on [Student #2] in the process.)

Teacher: “Now all you’ve done is spill the chemicals all over [Student #2]’s legs, not yours, AND spilled his water bottle!”

Student #1: “So, he needed pants more than goggles!”

Teacher: “No! That wouldn’t happen unless he worked with someone especially clumsy during his lab, and most people take the chemicals and put the beaker up to their face to measure or examine them!”

([Teacher] grabs an empty, clean beaker from her desk and demonstrates by putting the exposed end close to her eye.)

Teacher: “If you don’t have goggles, you may go blind if you slosh the liquid out of the container!”

Student #1: “But if you -”

Teacher: “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, THE ANSWER IS GOGGLES! NOW PLEASE SIT DOWN AND FINISH YOUR TEST!”

(The entire class starts cracking up, and [Student #1] walks back to his desk in defeat. The next day:)

Teacher’s Aide: *wasn’t here yesterday* “So, this goggles vs. pants question–“

Teacher: “NO.”

(The entire class cracked up again.)

(I quit my job to return to school. After several months I decide to swing in and see “the guys.” When I show up, the only person there is a guy that was transferred in from another branch not long after I left. I barely know him but he recognizes me. He proceeds to tell me how my old manager is heading a district upstate, how my old assistant manager is managing his own store a state over, how an old coworker got a corporate gig, and so on. As I listen to how everyone is doing well, I see my nerd moment, I praise myself for being SO CLEVER, and I seize the opportunity for a perfect quote:)

Me: “Man, I’m out of it for a little while and everyone gets delusions of grandeur!”

Transfer Employee: *just smiles politely and nods* “Yeah. Crazy, huh?”

(My shoulders slouched, I bid him farewell, and I went away and sulked that it went over his head. Or maybe beneath him. I guess it’s all perspective.)

(The young son of one of our regulars is the cutest thing. He goes up to my coworker with a pack of cards that we give away for free, as a promotion for a game his dad plays, and he says, in his tiny voice:)

Kid: “Is it okay I took this? It says ‘thirteen plus.’ I’m five.”

Coworker: “That’s okay; we won’t tell.”

(We both had a good laugh at his seriousness. Ah, the logic of a five-year-old.)

My high school was having an anti-violence week, filled with pep rallies, keynote speakers, hallway decorations, after-school events, etc. After one of the pep rallies we returned to English class. My English teacher was an insufferably prideful and arrogant woman who flaunted her anti-male, women-uber-allies third-wave feminism to us almost daily. Boys were torn down for being male, girls were praised and given a pass on everything. She shared a story with us about how violence affected her. She told us about a student she’d had eight or nine years prior, and how this young woman was brilliant and ambitious and kind. Apparently this girl got into the University of Chicago after she graduated and was near the top of her class, getting ready for med school, when she was walking home one night and was mugged, shot, and killed.

Our teacher had tears in her eyes as she told us about this, and I kept thinking about how human this made her seem. This viciously mean teacher with uneven standards across her classroom based on her personal biases was having this moment of real humanity as she told us about how someone she deeply cared about met such a horrific end. After she told us what had happened to this girl, she wrapped up the story as she wiped away a couple tears, “I just wanted to share that, about how I’ve experienced violence in my own life. I just think what happened to her was a terrible waste of brains, and her loss was a blow to the progress of women.”

“Ah,” I thought to myself, “there it is.”