I’m in line with a few people ahead of me.

Customer 1: 14 tickets for [movie], next show.
Employee: (didn’t hear)
Customer 1: Okay I’ll take just 11 then. It’s all good.

I look on the top screen, showing only a handful of seats left, then all selected. Luckily, that’s not what I want.

Customer 2: Damn. I wanted a ticket too! Just one ticket…
Customer 1: Wait, I heard you. This showing?
Customer 2: Yes.
Employee: (didn’t hear well but said something about releasing…I think he means if he releases the last one, a customer at another counter can buy it.)
Customer 1: Alright, you pay for your one and I’ll pay the other 10.

After getting tickets.

Customer 2 then snatches a ticket out of customer 1’s hand.

Customer 2: (nasty tone) Thank you! Hmph.

Customer 2 then rushes off.

Customer 1: Hey, what…..
Employee: (open mouthed)

I’m reading of these stories waiting for my mom, for I assum, to pick me up. I’m in sixth, my younger brother in fifth, and the youngest in third.
Teacher: “(My name).”
Me: Looks up to see my grandma.
I walk out.
Grandma: “I thought this was sixth.”
Me: confused “It is.”
I sit down only to see my grandma at the fourth grade classroom. I walk up to her.
Me: “Grandma this is fourth.”
Grandma: “Oh, really?”
Me:”Yeah.” Points to fifth grade.
Grandma: walks over
Me: “Grandma there are signs.”
I pointed to the sign on the door.
Grandma: “So this is fifth?”
Me: sighs and face palms on inside “Yes. You walked past my grade’s sign.”

In 6th grade we had two separate classes, English and Reading. While the sound like they should be the same thing, they weren’t. English was where we read books like a regular English class. In Reading, we read short stories and the kinds of things that show up on standardized tests and practiced comprehension questions and the little mini-essays the tests had on them (BCR, anyone?).

We had just finished a book most of the class loved in English and after lots of tests in Reading we were pretty sick of reading just about anything. So of course that’s when they decide to hand us copies of The Fellowship of the Ring.

I’m not bashing Lord of the Rings but we were all hating it. It was just a touch too hard for us and we were burnt out. We were a G&T class and we were not used to struggling to read anything ever and it got overwhelming fast. Most of the class was behind in the reading schedule and those who weren’t were not understanding what they read without class discussion…But there wasn’t much discussion happening when 2/3 of the class had to spend most of the period trying to covertly read under their desks to catch up.

In the end, we managed to convince the teacher that we were loving the book so much that we wished to read and enjoy it at our own pace. At the time we thought we pulled one over on the teacher, because a few days later they collected all the copies and gave us something else to read. Looking back I’m hoping that the teacher just didn’t want to fight us on it because if she legit believed us I worry what other things students got away with over the years…

(I work at a college library as a service desk worker, meaning I check out items, take fines and answer questions. We check out universal phone chargers to students, but we only have a few, so they can run out pretty quickly. I have poor hearing, so I often have to ask patrons to repeat themselves if they speak too quietly.)

Patron: *approaching the desk* Charger?

Me: Sorry?

Patron: *raises his eyebrows at me* Charger?

(I get up and look behind the desk for a phone charger, since we keep them in a few different places, but we’re all out.)

Me: Sorry, sir, we’re all checked out.

Patron: *slowly and clearly* Char-ger? Phone char-ger?

Me: All. Checked. Out.

(He huffs, rolls his eyes at me, and walks away. I wish I could say this was the first, or the worst, time that I’ve had this exact interaction.)

(My dad, being quite adept at math, is trying to help me with some algebraic concepts I’m just not picking up due my teacher’s lack of actually teaching. Unfortunately, this problem has been going on all school year, so I’m quite frustrated with the entire subject by the time Dad finally steps in to help me study for the final.
It should also be noted that my dad’s first specialty in the military was Ordnance: Missile, meaning he worked with rocket and missiles before that particular specialty was done away with.)
Me: Dad, I’m just not getting it. Maybe I really *am* too stupid to do math.
Dad: You are not too stupid to get math. You learned to add and subtract when you were 3, you understood multiplication before kindergarten, and you used to do your older sister’s math homework for her so she’d do your crosswords… (sees my incredulous look) What, you think I didn’t know? So long as you both understand the concepts and do well on your tests, I don’t care if you trade busywork.
Me: Oh. Thanks. But I’m still just not getting *this!*
Dad: Look, [My Name], it’s algebra, not rocket science. And even if it was rocket science, I could still teach you how to do it!
(After the teenage groans from his dad humor lightened the mood, I was able to break through the frustration, and actually finally figured out where the disconnect was happening. Suddenly, I understood the basic formula that my teacher had been unwilling to explain to me all year – because “you should already know this; I’m not wasting my time going over it if you’re too stupid to know how” – and the rest came quite naturally. And I aced the final, which meant I passed the course.)