In sixth grade, my history teacher once gave us a fairly easy test, but with a question on a topic that we hadn’t learned in class. Being a huge history nerd, I had no problem answering it, not even thinking much about it.

When she gave the test results back, everyone had an eight; they had just missed the last question. I, however, had a zero, even though everything was correct.

Me: “[Teacher], why did I get a zero?”

Teacher: “Since we haven’t covered that topic yet, it’s clear that you cheated.”

Me: “I just love history; I’ve already read about that topic just for the sake of it.”

This happened in 2006, so there was absolutely no way I could have Googled the question on a smartphone, and she kept all our textbooks during tests. She looked in my desk and even in my backpack. She found no evidence of cheating, but she still insisted I had cheated.

I decided not to argue with her and instead took it to the principal. Since cheating accusations were taken very seriously at my school, the next day, my parents, the teacher, and I were called to the principal’s office. After my teacher explained the whole situation, my father went straight to her.

Father: “So, you wrote a question on a topic that you hadn’t taught, expecting everyone to fail to answer, and then you punished the only student that answered? Why did you put that question in the first place? Did you put it intentionally to lower their grades, knowing that the highest grade would be eight? Are you such a bad teacher that you don’t even know what you have taught? Or are you such an a**hole that you feel the need to bully some twelve-year-olds because you know more about history? And since [My Name] knows history, you decided to bully him?”

My teacher was livid. She tried to answer but couldn’t find the words.

To be honest, before this, the teacher had been actually a very good teacher, and I did learn a lot with her. Sadly, this wasn’t the first time she had picked a student to bully, and she was fired on spot.

I work at a gift shop. A young lady asks for my help.

Customer: “Do you have a mug or something that says, ‘Best Mom’? No, wait, a mug that says, ‘Best Teacher,’ in like, super cutesy font, the kind of thing you give to a kindergarten teacher?”

Me: “Sure, over here. Is your mom a kindergarten teacher?”

Customer: “No, she’s a court secretary. Says it’s like herding toddlers.”

We’re in a Zoom class. One of my classmates doesn’t mute her microphone before trying to get her dog to leave the room.

Classmate: “Out! No! No, girl! Out! Out! Bad girl, let go of that! No! No! Out! Vade retro, canus!”

Day 294 of quarantine, yay. I’m paying for a delivery that doesn’t accept cards for whatever reason.

Me: “Hey, [Daughter], do you have change for a $100 bill?”

Daughter: “I haven’t even seen cash for almost a year.”

I’ll be in a different country for a month because of a college project. I’m still living with my family, and my brother has some friends over as I’m walking out of the door with my suitcase. 

Trying to look cool in front of them, my brother barely acknowledges me as I wave goodbye. Then, one of his buddies slaps him on the shoulder.

Friend: “Dude! She’s going overseas, not to the corner store! At least give her a hug!”

I got my hug.