(I work as a freelance math tutor. One day, I meet my client for an appointment and have the following exchange:)

Me: “I see you’re going to [Local Community College]. Which class are you taking?”

Student: “I don’t know.”

Me: *assuming maybe he forgot the name of the class* “Ok, do you have the book?”

Student: “No.”

Me: “Well then, do you happen to have the syllabus?”

Student: “No.”

Me: “Then why did you set up this appointment?”

Student: “No, that was my uncle.”

(I just left at that point.)

(I’m tutoring a high school student who is reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream.)

Student: “What does “spotted and inconstant” mean?”

Me: “What would you call a guy who flirts with a girl until she falls in love with him, then dumps her and chases after her best friend?”

Student: “A f***-boy.”

Me: “Well, yes, but if you write about him in your essay maybe you should say he’s fickle instead.”

(The office I work in accepts calls from out of state students in order to help them with their school work. Between scheduled appointments, I am doing some filing at my desk, when my coworker’s conversation with his student catches my attention. We work in the math, business, and statistics department.)

Coworker #1: *into his headset* “I… well, maybe our new president will do something for this country, ma’am. Yes. Perhaps. No, I don’t think the Bible means you have to love tyrants; I think it probably just means you should respect authority. Well, yes, it is true that the revolution had plenty of Christians in it, ma’am. That was a common religion then. Right. Um… no, I don’t think a revolt should be lead against the government. No, ma’am, I’m not at liberty to say which political party I belong to. No, thank you… Right. Now, did you have any other questions about your math homework? Okay. Right.”

Coworker #2: *nudges him* “[Coworker #1], it doesn’t seem like much math is going on; having fun?”

(Coworker #1 makes a face like he wants to die, and finishes his appointment.)

Coworker #1: “Next time the caller tries to start a political debate, can I transfer them to someone who specializes in poli-sci?”

(I make tuition bookings for students. A parent of one student comes to see me in a huff because of the time of his son’s lesson.)

Parent: “You booked [Son] in for 3:30 pm tomorrow. We can’t possibly make it at 3:30 pm. I booked it at 4 pm. I don’t know why you booked it in at 3:30. You need to move it to 4 pm.”

Me: “I remember you coming to book in the lesson. You agreed to 3:30 because nothing else was avail—”

Parent: “You’ve made a mistake. You need to move my son’s lesson. We can’t make it at 3:30 and you’ve booked it in for 3:30.”

Me: “You booked it for 3:30. I remember the conversation… You even went out to the car to check with your son that it was fine for 3:30.”

Parent: “It’s in my diary at 4 pm, so I booked it at 4 pm. I don’t understand why you’re unable to just book him in at 4 pm.”

Me: “There is another student at 4 pm. She’s been there for more than 12 months, so that time was never available.”

Parent: “My wife told me it was booked for 4 pm, too.”

(At this point I’m shaking with a combination of rage and fear, but I know I’m right so I continue.)

Me: “Give me a moment and I’ll check the registration forms.”

Parent: “I know we booked it at 4 pm. Just move the other student.”

Me: “Give me a moment” *I walk away and find his son’s registration form*

(I hold the registration form out, still shaking, showing the parent.)

Me: “Is this your writing?”

Parent: “Yes”

Me: “Read out what it says under comments.”

Parent: “3:30 Friday.”

Me: “You booked the 3:30 spot. So that is what you have.”

Parent: “I still don’t understand why you just can’t move other students around…”

(Brain explodes.)

(We play puzzle a trivia games between lessons at our tutoring center. One of the older students is reading clues from a card.)

Eleven-Year-Old: “A protest against employers is called a ____ ?”

Nine-Year-Old: “I don’t know.”

Teacher: “Yeah, you do. When the workers stop coming to work because they don’t like what the boss is doing they go on a what?”

Five-Year-Old: “A roller coaster!”

Nine-Year-Old: “No, a strike!”

Me: *cracks up imagining disgruntled workers going to an amusement park*