(This takes place in high school social studies class. The teacher is explaining a concept of economics. I’m known to be a pretty smart kid and a whiz at science, but I don’t usually participate.)

Teacher: “Think of it this way. Does anybody know how a vacuum cleaner works?”

(A few students raise their hands, including me.)

Teacher: “[Student #1]?”

Student #1: “It sucks stuff in with a big fan.”

Teacher: “No, that’s incorrect. [Student #2]?”

Student #2: “There’s a pump and it pulls air in.”

Teacher: “Nope, not right, either.”

(The teacher then looks at me and gives me a look that tells me he is not looking forward to my response.)

Teacher: “[My Name]?”

Me: “Things always move from an area of higher concentration to lower concentration, so a vacuum cleaner pumps air out of a chamber inside it, creating an area of lower air pressure inside. The higher air pressure outside of the vacuum pushes things into it, and they end up in the bag, which is porous to allow air to pass through.”

Teacher: *pause* “No, that’s not right, either. The point is, nobody knows how a vacuum works.”

(He carried on with the lesson, and I frowned and sat back in my chair, knowing I had a better explanation than anyone else, and deciding that he wasn’t expecting someone to actually know how a vacuum cleaner works, ruining the analogy.)

(Decades before the TV show about blowing things up with science, there was my high school chemistry teacher. The very first day of class, I sit down in my chair and lean back lazily. Then I freeze, with my eyes wide.)

Friend: “[My Name]? Are you okay?”

Me: “The light fixture is melted.”

Friend: “What?!”

(He looks up where I’m looking, and right above the table where the teacher would be making demonstrations, the hanging light fixture is indeed partially melted, and twisted. The ceiling is pock-marked with black marks, and I could swear there are things… embedded… in the ceiling.)

Friend: “Uh…”

(The facts spread quickly as other students file in, see other kids muttering uneasily, and follow the pointed fingers. The teacher comes in:)

Teacher: “All right, students, I know this is not a class you want to take first thing in the morning, but I would like to inform you now that there will be no dozing off in this class.”

(The entire class wordlessly points to the ceiling.)

Teacher: *with an evil smirk* “Oh, darn. You already figured out the reason why.“

(To be fair, nobody did doze off in class. Our teacher was notorious for demonstrating why you followed the rules exactly, by demonstrating how NOT to do things. Just about everything our teacher did either exploded, caught on fire, or did something likewise terrifying. Every day a demonstration happened, the first three rows of students scooted their desks back as far as they could, cramming toward the back of the room. I learned a lot about chemistry, but I wonder, years later, if my teacher ever happened to teach the hosts of that show. It would explain a lot.)

Every week we have specials on certain items. One particular item, normally 35¢, was discounted to a lower price and shown in the ad as “4 for $1.00.” A customer went to a register with four of the item and the cashier was ringing them up.

A minute later she called for the manager over the walkie-talkie system, “These items are supposed to be four for a dollar, but they’re ringing up at 25¢ each!” It was the first time I heard five different employees laugh in five different parts of the store at the same time.

(I am volunteering at a science festival, doing science activities with children. We have an activity where it is relevant to mention that a baby is made from an egg and a sperm. The activity is specifically designed so that we never have to mention how these two get together in the first place, but we do name the two cells. I am supervising a girl of around nine, and a few other kids.)

Me: “The baby is made from two special cells from the mum and the dad. Does anyone know what the special cell from the mum is called?”

Nine-Year-Old: *raises hand excitedly, then calls out at the top of her voice* “Vagina!”

(I carefully avoid making eye contact with any of the other adults at the stand, knowing that I will not be able to contain myself if I do.)

Me: *very calmly* “You’re very close. That’s actually where the baby comes out of the mum.”

(I work for a company that helps doctors, nurses, dentists, etc. set up accounts online to become certified to see certain patients. Sometimes these individuals have to pay a fee in order to become registered. At the end of this payment process, the individual needs to answer a basic math question to submit the payment. I work in the chat/emails department, and today I got a very special email.)

User: “I tried to submit a payment on [System], but I cannot answer the last line, ‘10 + 8.’ What is the security answer before I submit my payment?”

(I have been staring at this email for a good long while, and I can honestly say I am scared for whoever gets this person as a provider.)