Where Lazy Meets Lucky

, , , | Learning | June 9, 2017

(In Germany, we have to get a few weeks of work experience during our school time. We are also obligated to make a complete folder about it, with several chapters (introducing the company we work for, the workers themselves, writing essays about at least two days of work and taking tons of pictures). I, being the s**t-head I am, am not looking forward to it and don’t do a thing until it is two days after the deadline. I write the whole thing in about two and a half hours, before I have another lesson with the teacher supervising our working experiences. Since I am in a bilingual class, we have to do half of the folder in English, too. This is the feedback I get for it:)

Teacher: “And here are your folders! I’m sorry it took such a long time to grade them. As always, the results are varied, but I was more than pleasantly surprised by one of your works.”

(Starts handing out folders, talking briefly to everyone about their grades.)

Teacher: *to me, loudly* “And [My Name]! Your folder was a little special, wasn’t it?”

(I’m basically expecting to get scolded for turning it in late and being sloppy. I didn’t even proofread the thing, for Heaven’s sakes.)

Me: “…it was?”

Teacher: “Yes! In all my years as a teacher — and that were a lot of years, as you all can see — I have never seen a single work that was this good! This is the first time I gave anyone a A+. You wrote the whole thing in English, your grammar and spelling were perfect, the way you wrote was creative and entertaining, the order of the pictures was great and complementing the story, and honestly, I am more than happy that I got to read this. Thank you. This really showed me that after all these years of teaching, I still love my job.”

Me: *sincerely* “Thank you, Mr. [Teacher]. I put a lot of effort and work into it.”

(That man was one of the kindest teachers I ever met, and eventually was the first person I gave one of my short stories to. At that point, he only had three years left before he retired. He wasn’t the best teacher in the world, but he sure was one of the best people. Unfortunately, he passed away before he retired and could take his trip around the USA to live out his passion for photography. Thank you for always being positive and nice, even though you had to deal with lazy dip-s**ts like me.)

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Why Can’t You Be In Two Places At Once?

, , , | Working | June 7, 2017

(I’m very new to the hotel business, and have learned that there is only one person — me — working overnight. Lately, the customers having been complaining about me.)

Manager: “Why are there so many complaints about our overnight service?”

Me: “Probably because I’m delivering things to rooms when someone else calls needing stuff.”

Manager: “What can we do to make it better for you?”

Me: “Have someone else watch the desk while I deliver stuff?”

Manager: “NO!”

(My suggestion was ignored and the complaints kept coming. The manager never consulted me again on this matter and seemed happy with the complaints coming in. Sad.)

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Tearing Down Whatever You Built Up

, , , , , | Learning | June 1, 2017

One of the classes I take is basically a shop class. Our midterm grade is to build something for the area Inventor’s Fair.

I have a “friend” who can’t flesh out an original idea to save her life and while I have an idea, I can’t make it work. We end up partnering up — she fixes my idea– and we have the entirety of winter break to build the prototype and make the project’s poster-board and everything else for it. Well, we agree that I’ll do the research and poster-board because I’m not very good building things.

Halfway into break, I have the audacity to ask for pictures of the project for the board. She says, “Well, I built it, but it’s at my dad’s house in South Carolina and it wouldn’t fit in my bag to go on the plane home.”

I smelled bull-s***. But I thought, hey, we have a week still. It’ll be fine.

Every time I ask, and it gets to the point I’m asking everyday, she insists it’s at her dad’s, that he won’t send the pictures, that he’s being lazy, etc.

At this point I’m already rewriting the board and putting together a s*** prototype but a prototype which is the largest part of our grade.

Well, we present it, and she b****es eight ways to Sunday about the “plainness” of our board, and gets herself in trouble for continuing to decorate when the teacher says time’s up.

We go up and present. I have to present just about EVERYTHING because this girl doesn’t know a thing about what I had to do. All the pics are of me working, and the prototype is all my work.

Well, we survive, and I open up for questions and this girl says, before anyone can ask anything, “Just so you know, we had a better prototype that was pretty and well-made and all, but my dad’s being a butt and won’t send it.”

If looks could kill, I don’t know if the teacher or I would have killed her first.

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Today Doesn’t Work For Me

, , | Learning | March 7, 2017

I tend to be rather flexible on late work. I get the purpose of not taking late work to teach kids responsibility about deadlines and procrastination, but I also teach in a school where many of our kids are involved in several extracurricular activities, including jobs and church activities, so I’m willing to be flexible and work around their schedule as long as they’re willing to meet me halfway and make classwork a priority.

Unfortunately, that leads to abuse. Today is the last day of the grading period. I’ve had several students come up to me. “If I don’t turn anything in today, what will my grade be?” And when the answer comes back “68”, they’re not happy — 70 is the minimum to pass. “Well, that sucks. Now I actually have to do my work, and I only have today to do it!”

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A Project-ed Fail

, , | Learning | February 28, 2017

While at college I decide to take a graphic design class for an art credit. On the first day, the teacher makes it very clear that we will basically have one project to complete every class, and because of that, missing classes will cause us to fall drastically behind, as we will be expected to make them up, and the skills we gain from the previous project are utilized in the next one. She reminds us of this at least once per week, typically as she’s collecting the completed projects. However, she also lets us know that the computer lab is always available to us outside of class, and she’s happy to answer questions so we can catch up in our free time.

I’m seated next to a particularly obnoxious boy, who spends most of the class talking to his buddy and generally goofing off, no matter how many times I tell him to shut up and do his work. A month into the semester, he stops coming. I figure he must have dropped out once he realized the class actually involved work. I end up having a ton of fun in the class, and the teacher is really nice and helpful. I do miss a project once, causing me to fall behind for a bit, but true to her word I’m able to make it up outside of class and catch up.

A week before the semester’s end, the obnoxious kid comes back, plopping down right next to me. He asks me what he missed since he’d stopped coming. I stare at him like he’s insane, pointing out that he’s been gone for two months. He laughs it off, claiming he can catch up in his free time. I remind him that we had a project to finish each day, each taking over an hour and a half to finish, and we had the class three days a week. So, basically, he had one week to do over two dozen projects.

I get the pleasure of seeing his eyes widen in realization and horror before he sprints up to the teacher, freaking out over how he was going to make up that much work. The teacher, being nice, agrees to give him an extension to turn in all the projects, but given how I didn’t see him again after that, I’m guessing he decided to take the failing grade instead of attempt to cram in a semester’s worth of projects into two weeks.

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