(My classmate sees my teacher getting a mint out of his desk as he is asking to go the bathroom.)

Classmate: “Can I have a mint?”

Teacher: “No.”

Classmate: “Why?”

Teacher: “Because then I would have to give everyone a mint.”

Classmate: “Rock-paper-scissors, then.”

Teacher: “No.”

Classmate: “Best out of three.”

Teacher: “Just go to the bathroom.”

Classmate: *as he is walking out of the room, yells* “[Teacher] has mints!”

(Everyone stares at the teacher.)

Teacher: “D*** it, [Classmate]!”

(I am meeting with my advisor to discuss scheduling my first classes. I was enrolled at another college a few years prior to this for a different major, but decided to move back home and switch to a medical field. On my way to the campus, there is a traffic jam due to an accident. I call my advisor’s office and leave a voicemail explaining my tardiness and apologizing. I arrive ten minutes late and rush in, still apologizing to the secretary. She smiles and asks if I’d like a seat and some water. Before I can answer, I hear a cough behind me. My advisor sticks his head out of his office.)

Advisor: “[My Name]?”

Me: “Yes. Yes, I’m so sorry. There was an accident and I—”

Advisor: “Late is late.”

Me: “Oh. Okay. I left a voicemail for you—”

Advisor: “I don’t care.”

Me: “Okay… Can we still meet or should I reschedule?”

Advisor: *long pause* “I can run through your curriculum with you this time, but next time, leave earlier.”

Me: “Okay.”

(Throughout the entire meeting, I get the feeling he simply doesn’t like me. He asks questions and doesn’t wait for an answer, and he assumes I know nothing about college or how classes work, basically implying that I’m an idiot. He actually makes a phone call, not related to our meeting, when I am mid-sentence! Finally, this happens:)

Advisor: “There are links here at the bottom of this page. They cover studies you should be familiar with before your first class. Have you followed them?”

Me: “No, I haven’t seen them, but I will tonight.”

Advisor: “Excuse me?”

Me: “I’ll watch them tonight.”

Advisor: “No. What did you say, exactly?”

Me: “Uh, I think I said—” *repeats*

Advisor: *stares at me* “Proper grammar is very important.”

Me: “What did I say?”

Advisor: “You don’t say, ‘haven’t seen.’ It’s improper.”

Me: “With all due respect, sir, I’m pretty sure ‘haven’t seen’ is correct.”

Advisor: “…”

Me: “…”

Advisor: “Get out.”

Me: “What? Why?”

Advisor: “I will not waste my time with someone who thinks they know more than me.”

Me: “I wasn’t trying to say that.”

Advisor: “Leave. Now.”

(I left and immediately went home to my husband, angry, confused, and on the verge of tears. He encouraged me to write a letter to the head of the department and the Dean. I did, and they both agreed that my advisor was out of line. I switched advisors and went on to get my degree. I haven’t seen him since.)

(I am taking a constitutional law class, and the professor is discussing equal protection and how the Constitution was used to end segregation.)

Professor: “So, this case involved a coffee shop, called the Eagle, that wouldn’t serve black customers. According to the Interstate commerce clause, private businesses can’t discriminate. However, the Evil coffee shop continued to racially discriminate…”

Class: *laughing*

Professor: “What’s funny? I’m trying to teach!”

Student: “But you called it the ‘Evil’ shop!”

Professor: “Really? Freudian slip, I guess. Anyway, the Eagle coffee shop discriminated… stop laughing! Segregation is evil!”

(A third-grade student can’t find her shoe at the end of the day. I give her a couple of suggestions of places to check for it.)

Student #1: “Miss [Teacher], I still can’t find it.”

Me: “Sorry, [Student #1], I don’t know what else to suggest. My shoe-finding spell doesn’t work very well.”

Student #1: “What do you mean?”

Me: *waving my pen as if it were a wand* “Oh, you know— Accio shoe!“

Student #2: *from under a desk across the room* “Here it is!”

Student #1: *in awe* “It worked!”

(I work at the largest university in Alaska, and we frequently have earthquake drills and, of course, the required fire drills. I am designated as one of our building safety personnel in charge of evacuating the building and getting people to the designated “safe” area away from the building, a large portion of which is floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows. The meeting area is located safely behind the cement parking garage, a good distance from our building. However, people get weirdly stubborn about moving to the correct area, even as I wave and point and usher them. I start becoming very creative in handling these recalcitrant evacuees.)

Me: *in official vest and over bullhorn* “Please step this way behind the parking garage, towards the designated meeting area!”

(A few people move.)

Me: “Folks, please be sure to thank those people over there—” *indicates the people still stubbornly standing right next to the giant glass building* “—who have bravely volunteered to be a human shield for you in the event of a fire or other disaster in which our building, made entirely of glass, could potentially explode outward.” *pause for effect* “Their sacrifice in protecting you from the explosive shrapnel will be much appreciated!”

(The human shields eschew the honor and glory, and move to relative safety behind the parking garage, glaring at me all the while.)

Me: *mentally shrugging; it’s part of my job and I can’t get fired over this* “Thank you for playing the ‘How to stay alive during a natural disaster’ game! Herb, tell them what they’ve won!”

(Most people were laughing pretty hard at this point. The few holdouts glowered at me the entire time.)