Share Your School Stories - Weirdos, freaks, and idiots (self-inclusion optional)

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One time I stole a box of Altoids off the teacher’s desk because some kid I barely knew gave me 5 dollars for it. I got away with it too, until my mom found out. I think that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever gotten in trouble for.
 
My school was full of autists for reasons I won't go into, worst was probably the low functioning Greek sperg who thought Rihanna was his girlfriend. He had an ear piercingly high voice and was really easily baited by anyone making fun of his pop star waifu, apparently he tried to get some younger kid to suck his dick and they ended up transferring him elsewhere idk if he's even alive.
 
While in high school, I made a disposable email account for impersonating a teacher. I would send very official sounding messages to students and faculty, mostly false information about the school's budget and plans for future enrollment. Among other things, I would claim that prom and certain sporting events were cancelled and that the school was running out of money and would have to cut costs. I would also profess an extreme Christian-fundementalist faith, and tell students they would be going to hell. After a few messages, the real teacher sent out an email explaining that he was being impersonnated and denying the false statements that I had made. Later, they held a meeting to discuss 'responsible computer usage' and left instructions on how to deal with spam. I quickly deleted the account after that. The best part is, I never got caught.
 
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I was really moody as a high school freshman, which was weird as I lived in a district that was as white bread as can be. I wish I said that I eventually grew out such a phase, but the truth of the matter is that every semester seems to have new embarrassing habits in store that I can only reflect back at the end of the year in horror (like sleeping outside or in the auditorium during lunchtime, shooting dirty looks at girls for playfully teasing me when perhaps I should have taken it as a sign, and etc).

In this case, one day I casually replied not to worry to someone after they bumped into me on the way to class. His eyes widened. Apparently I had developed a reputation as a mute kid, and he was surprised that I can actually talk.
 
A Clockwork Soybean said:
While in high school, I made a disposable email account for impersonating a teacher. I would send very official sounding messages to students and faculty, mostly false information about the school's budget and plans for future enrollment. Among other things, I would claim that prom and certain sporting events were cancelled and that the school was running out of money and would have to cut costs. I would also profess an extreme Christian-fundementalist faith, and tell students they would be going to hell. After a few messages, the real teacher sent out an email explaining that he was being impersonnated and denying the false statements that I had made. Later, they held a meeting to discuss 'responsible computer usage' and left instructions on how to deal with spam. I quickly deleted the account after that. The best part is, I never got caught.
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I used to do a thing where I'd just have two loops in a BASIC program so that it would start out beeping by printing a control-G every five minutes, and the second loop would shorten the inner loop. So it would start out by doing this every five minutes, and then very very slowly (over the course of a couple days) speeding up, so by day two it would be every 2-3 minutes, etc.

And then I'd let other kids in the class in on it and they'd pretend not to be able to hear it to gaslight the teacher who was visibly cringing every time it beeped and slowly losing his mind.
 
In spite of being a public high school, the one I went to had a very strong music program that boasted a large population of band geeks, many of whom consistently racked in awards.

This may or may not have something to do with the fact that our band teacher was a kid-friendly incarnation of Fletcher from Whiplash.

He loved singling people out. His emotions turned on a dime, warmly praising one student for their performance before absolutely ripping into the unfortunate soul next to them. A "good mood" was not a buffer that prevented him from blowing up like dynamite later. If not that, then some heckling meant to shame you for not being good enough. Forgetting to silence your phone, even if it's properly tucked away in the lockers nearby the classroom, will have you kicked out for the rest of the period, and you must come back the next day and apologize so he'll let you attend class again. Then there was his passive-aggressive fu, which could beat out every menopause-stricken faculty member who graced the school grounds; if a class played especially poorly during a session, he would stop conducting, admit defeat, and then order everyone to take out another music sheet that was insultingly easy to perform, rubbing salt in everyone's pride. Sometimes he would scream, other times he would stop moving and became deathly quiet. Slacking your instrument down while he's in that state was an immediate recipe for disaster.

And just like Fletcher, he eventually went too far with one student whose parents eventually complained. The school had to let him go. The funny thing is, a lot of the hardcore band players were upset that he was fired. Stockholm Syndrome, you know? It did seem to be the beginning of the end though, as the quality of future band players declined with every passing semester until it became obvious the year after I graduated. I recently went to a local restaurant that had a school portrait of this year's marching band. It was less than a third of the band I was a part of...

As for me, I've never gotten onto his bad side before. Usually, he would just briefly smile at me before moving on (I was probably too middling to be worth particular attention). There was that one time however when I stumbled during a drill; while his tone was easygoing, he was still using the megaphone to call me out on the mistake. It was like having a raptor debate on whether or not it will snatch me up in its claws.
 
My college requirements for graduation include taking one elective involving politics. I blindly chose Public Policy Formation, completely unaware that any amount of research would've told me it was the worst possible choice out of the entire catalog if I wanted to just coast. And yet, it ended up being the most fun I had in college thanks to the professor who ran this clown show.

He was a black libertarian prosecution attorney with very... interesting ideas on how to teach his political courses. Every class begins with a discussion on the most recent news, which was basically A&H lite as everyone under the political spectrum argued over each other, with discussions almost always eating into over half of the school period. He would often participate in the squabbles as well with his libertarian opinions, which were borderline sociopathic at times (such as his belief that everyone has a right to destroy themselves with drug addiction and consequently be left on the wayside for their choices, or that it's completely within reason for rich people to argue that they should be taxed less). Once we get to the actual class material, there's so little time remaining that most lectures are just left midway, often without ever being resolved before we moved onto the next material. He didn't seem to really care about the lessons himself anyway, treating both the midterms and finals as more of an afterthought - they were online quizzes with only 10 questions to prove we read the small textbook.

His true love was for group projects - on the first day of class, everyone was required to take a Myers–Briggs personality test and send him the results, to which he'll sort us into groups that will provide the most, uh, "chemistry". We were required to work with this same group until we the end of the semester, so you're stuck with whoever you get. He also happened to be a tough grader, so if your first assignment gets a certain grade, you know you might as well have that stamped across the board for all future assignments. I was put into the same team as a chubby girl, an African-American fellow, and a white nationalist.

Yeah... that's a story for another day.

At the end of every group assignment, he required us to rate each other's performance and not be afraid to snitch, proudly relating this to his time in law school when he sold out one of his teammates who repeatedly failed to uphold their share of the workload. He was also maddeningly vague when I asked for help on defining whether or not a "court-ordered restitution" counts as a federal debt or a private debt; he told me the teacher-friendly equivalent of "figure that shit out for yourself". I also remember him kicking me out of class once, though I've forgotten the specifics on why.

Even so, I and everyone in class (white nationalist included) were fond of him. He was enthusiastic and was full of entertaining stories, of which these are just the few I can remember:
  • He sold his classmate out because he considered his GPA to be like his money, in that he wanted to build it up as much as possible and have it not be messed with by outside factors.
  • His firm focused on investigating prostitutes so he can build up a good enough case to put their pimps behind bars.
  • Even though he was black, he regularly invited himself into white supremacy meetups so he can keep an eye out for any potential trouble brewing.
  • He boasted about his NJ-issued gun permit and how he currently has two guns in his car, which he will not hesitate to use to defend the class in the event of a school shooting (very big talk, but was an appreciated sentiment since Sandy Hook was still fresh at the time).
  • He was open about how he and his mother were the white sheep of the family, with the rest being various flavors of thieves and drug peddlers.
  • During one case where he got a hefty paycheck out of it, his mother (who works as his secretary) accidentally leaked the amount to another family member. Various cousins proceeded to leave their jobs and knock on his door, hoping he'll share the bounty. He refuses to.
  • He was once asked by a black kid looking to become a lawyer about why he's a prosecutor and not a defense attorney. He responded that it's to make sure the right people end up in prison, instead of forever fighting to keep another person out of one.
One last thing about him - at the last day of class, I missed the deadline for submitting the final exam, leaving my grade at a "C". He called me up to the front and asked if I was satisfied with it. I told him no, so he recommended that I later send him a formal request by email to temporarily restore the exam back online. I walked away with a solid "B" to my transcript, and he with a higher ratio of passing students with >80 scores.
 
There was a retarded emo girl in my year who wrote fanfiction where Edward and Bella (Twilight) were brother and sister. She called it twincest. She was also dyslexic.
One time she let me read her stories. She meant to write 'my life is falling into pieces' but instead she wrote 'my life is falling into pizzas'. I laughed for a really long time and she got mad at me.
 
Pinot Pierrot said:
My college requirements for graduation include taking one elective involving politics. I blindly chose Public Policy Formation, completely unaware that any amount of research would've told me it was the worst possible choice out of the entire catalog if I wanted to just coast. And yet, it ended up being the most fun I had in college thanks to the professor who ran this clown show.

He was a black libertarian prosecution attorney with very... interesting ideas on how to teach his political courses. Every class begins with a discussion on the most recent news, which was basically A&H lite as everyone under the political spectrum argued over each other, with discussions almost always eating into over half of the school period. He would often participate in the squabbles as well with his libertarian opinions, which were borderline sociopathic at times (such as his belief that everyone has a right to destroy themselves with drug addiction and consequently be left on the wayside for their choices, or that it's completely within reason for rich people to argue that they should be taxed less). Once we get to the actual class material, there's so little time remaining that most lectures are just left midway, often without ever being resolved before we moved onto the next material. He didn't seem to really care about the lessons himself anyway, treating both the midterms and finals as more of an afterthought - they were online quizzes with only 10 questions to prove we read the small textbook.

His true love was for group projects - on the first day of class, everyone was required to take a Myers–Briggs personality test and send him the results, to which he'll sort us into groups that will provide the most, uh, "chemistry". We were required to work with this same group until we the end of the semester, so you're stuck with whoever you get. He also happened to be a tough grader, so if your first assignment gets a certain grade, you know you might as well have that stamped across the board for all future assignments. I was put into the same team as a chubby girl, an African-American fellow, and a white nationalist.

Yeah... that's a story for another day.

At the end of every group assignment, he required us to rate each other's performance and not be afraid to snitch, proudly relating this to his time in law school when he sold out one of his teammates who repeatedly failed to uphold their share of the workload. He was also maddeningly vague when I asked for help on defining whether or not a "court-ordered restitution" counts as a federal debt or a private debt; he told me the teacher-friendly equivalent of "figure that shit out for yourself". I also remember him kicking me out of class once, though I've forgotten the specifics on why.

Even so, I and everyone in class (white nationalist included) were fond of him. He was enthusiastic and was full of entertaining stories, of which these are just the few I can remember:
  • He sold his classmate out because he considered his GPA to be like his money, in that he wanted to build it up as much as possible and have it not be messed with by outside factors.
  • His firm focused on investigating prostitutes so he can build up a good enough case to put their pimps behind bars.
  • Even though he was black, he regularly invited himself into white supremacy meetups so he can keep an eye out for any potential trouble brewing.
  • He boasted about his NJ-issued gun permit and how he currently has two guns in his car, which he will not hesitate to use to defend the class in the event of a school shooting (very big talk, but was an appreciated sentiment since Sandy Hook was still fresh at the time).
  • He was open about how he and his mother were the white sheep of the family, with the rest being various flavors of thieves and drug peddlers.
  • During one case where he got a hefty paycheck out of it, his mother (who works as his secretary) accidentally leaked the amount to another family member. Various cousins proceeded to leave their jobs and knock on his door, hoping he'll share the bounty. He refuses to.
  • He was once asked by a black kid looking to become a lawyer about why he's a prosecutor and not a defense attorney. He responded that it's to make sure the right people end up in prison, instead of forever fighting to keep another person out of one.
One last thing about him - at the last day of class, I missed the deadline for submitting the final exam, leaving my grade at a "C". He called me up to the front and asked if I was satisfied with it. I told him no, so he recommended that I later send him a formal request by email to temporarily restore the exam back online. I walked away with a solid "B" to my transcript, and he with a higher ratio of passing students with >80 scores.
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That sounds like a great class and professor, and you sound like a freedom hating commie.
 
DanteAlighieri said:
That sounds like a great class and professor, and you sound like a freedom hating commie.
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He's one of the few teachers I can say I've had the pleasure of ever meeting. He actually helped shape my current attitude towards politics. I've emailed him a couple of times a few months later when the Kavannaugh hearing was in full swing, which we both agreed is a result of Democrats acting in bad faith and is completely baseless.
 
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Pinot Pierrot said:
One last thing about him - at the last day of class, I missed the deadline for submitting the final exam, leaving my grade at a "C". He called me up to the front and asked if I was satisfied with it. I told him no, so he recommended that I later send him a formal request by email to temporarily restore the exam back online. I walked away with a solid "B" to my transcript, and he with a higher ratio of passing students with >80 scores.
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He sounds based as fuck.
 
AnOminous said:
He sounds based as fuck.
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That reminds me. As a lawyer himself, he liked to tell everyone to watch out for an attorney's presence on the media; the ones who make a big showing and appear in interviews are idiots in his eyes, as they've shown their hand in how they talk on court and thus are easy to prepare against. It's the quiet ones who've worked for years with nary a peep that scare him the most.

Knowing this, I deliberately asked him for his opinion on Avenatti in the above-mentioned email. Here's his response:
7. I believe that Mr. Avanatti gives our profession a horrible black eye with his attention seeking antics and desire to inject himself into every situation of note. His skills are middling, and frankly his bold statements attempt to paper over his mediocre lawyering. I could say more but as you said, you already know what I think of him. You can fill in the rest.
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Merry Christmas, Kiwis! My gift to the Farms is the tale of my mainstreamed classmate from fourth grade. He had a rather stereotypical dumb redneck look to him so he'll be Billybob. There was a lot of shit that went down with Billybob so I'll go with the most memorable stuff.

So the first thing to note about Billybob is that he caused enough problems early in the year to be permanently assigned to the group cluster in the very front by the teacher's desk. While everyone else would periodically shove their desks around to form different groups around the room, Billybob always had the same group, in the same spot facing the teacher's desk so she could even make sure he was doing his work.

Another thing is that there's a zero percent chance he grew up to pass as normal. Like, not even close. Even if you just thought he was a dumb, stereotypical redneck it'd take about a minute of actual interaction to realize he has the 'tism. Even though he technically is high functioning to do shit like dress himself and not shit himself, socially and mentally he was pretty fucking retarded and I doubt that's changed.

One day Billybob asks the teacher mid-lecture if he can go to the water fountain. The teacher gives him the go ahead and he left the class. The weird thing was that he never came back, because that year the water fountain was right next to the class door. Even if you were really thirsty you wouldn't be gone long at all. So after two or three minutes the teacher more than suspects Billybob is up to something and sticks her head out the door. Next thing we know she left the room completely, but we hear her confronting Billybob. A few seconds later they're both back, the teacher is pissed at Billybob, and Billybob is pissed the teacher caught him doing whatever.

Our teacher tells us to take out whatever text book and work on page blah blah blah. Then she takes Billybob back to his desk. Now, at this point in the year I've been rotated to Billybob's group cluster. I sat right next to him, even. So even though I was supposed to be doing shit I'm doing it slowly and quietly to listen to the teacher quietly yell at Billybob (as are the other kids who have been rotated there alongside me).

It turned out that instead of drinking like a normal person, Billybob was doing something akin to a dog or cat lapping up water. Only instead of moving his tongue, he was flinging his entire head back as he did so. My teacher came to the conclusion that Billybob was trying to fling water across the hall for some reason. Something else to know about Billybob: he was a really shitty liar and if you confronted him about something that he was going to lie about, all he'd do is say no, and get really, really mad. Red in the face, furrowed eyebrows, the whole bit. And that was exactly what he did when the teacher asked if he was trying to fling water across the hall.

The teacher promised to have a talk about this whole thing with his assigned handler in the sped room, and the next they rather obviously decided that Billybob couldn't be trusted in the hall anymore because now when he wanted to get a drink the teacher would stop what she was doing to escort him out to the hall, supervise his drinking, and bring him back. But that wasn't all, because when he wanted to go to the bathroom, the teacher picked a random guy to escort him to the bathroom and back, and supervise him in the bathroom itself too.

When they came back Billybob went back to his seat looking extremely pissed, while my classmate talked to the teacher. Turned out Billybob cussed the kid out in the bathroom, said he didn't need to be supervised for bad behavior, he'd do whatever the fuck he'd want, and so on. This time the teacher didn't fuck around and just called his personal handler to the class, and had my classmate repeat everything he told my teacher. Then his handler escorted him to the office.

After that day when Billybob needed to use the bathroom, the teacher would not only pick a random male classmate, but she'd walk with them to the bathroom and wait outside the door in order to better prevent incidents in the future. This was something that went on for the rest of the year, and I sometimes wonder if it continued in fifth grade, too.

One day while I was still in Billybob's group the teacher announced our latest art project. We were to draw any underwater scene we wanted in crayon on construction paper. When we'd finish she'd brush blue paint on it to give it an underwater appearance. The only stipulations were that it had to be completely underwater, we could not paint the pictures ourselves for some reason(my theory for that is it gave her some sort of control over us that she enjoyed), and that rather obviously we couldn't use the dark blue or black construction paper.

We select our paper and get started, and the first thing that happens is that Billybob, of course, took the dark blue paper, though the teacher didn't confront him immediately (probably she wanted to wait until the painting part to yell at him for it). We were enjoying ourselves, having fun, lighthearted conversation that Billybob was ignoring as he worked. His picture was an absolute mess of lines all over the place. The fact that he was rotating the paper constantly as he worked made it impossible to tell which end was what, even. And since he took the dark blue paper it was also impossible to tell if he used any color beside black and grey.

Curiosity finally got the better of us and we asked what he was drawing. Billybob said it was an oil rig. I just had to take his word for it, it looked that bad. He went on to say that he was going to tell the teacher which half to paint because the other half stuck out of the water. So not only did he ignore the bit about the paper, he ignored almost all the instructions altogether about the project. Someone gently tried to tell him that the entire thing is supposed to be underwater and Billybob yelled "shut up!" We stopped talking to him after that in case the teacher thought we were deliberately provoking him and continued on with our work.

And yes, the teacher gave him hell for taking the blue paper and drawing something that wasn't supposed to be completely underwater.

Early in December the teacher announced we'd all be participating in a class-wide Secret Santa. Only books were allowed, and only chapter books. They also had to be gender neutral (though many people ignored this) and Goosebumps were forbidden since they were controversial among some parents.

On the last day before Christmas break I and everyone else brought in our wrapped books and during the class party at the end of the day we exchanged gifts. I was hanging out with my friends, and we were enjoying ourselves, when Billybob approached one of my friends. With a stupid smile he announced to her he got her the best book based on the best movie of the year as he handed her a suspiciously thin gift. She opened it and sure enough, he ignored the teacher's explicit instructions and got her a picture book. But not just any picture book. It was the official picture book adaptation of Space Jam. Yes, really.

My friend smiled and thanked him, and when Billybob had walked away the conversation turned to the fact that he had given a fucking picture book as a gift. We couldn't decide if he deliberately ignored the teacher and picked it out himself, or just told his parents he had to give a book and they went with that because they had a very low impression of fourth graders thanks to Billybob.

As we were talking the teacher came up to us when she saw the Space Jam picture book. She looked at my friend and asked for confirmation that Billybob was her Secret Santa. She confirmed that he was, and when we were leaving after the bell rang the teacher told Billybob she needed to talk to him right now after class. I was dying to hang around outside the class to hear her yell at them, but I was afraid the teacher would catch me and I'd get in trouble. Also I really wanted to go home and start my Christmas vacation. I'm sure she tore him a new one, though.
 
Pinot Pierrot said:
One last thing about him - at the last day of class, I missed the deadline for submitting the final exam, leaving my grade at a "C". He called me up to the front and asked if I was satisfied with it. I told him no, so he recommended that I later send him a formal request by email to temporarily restore the exam back online. I walked away with a solid "B" to my transcript, and he with a higher ratio of passing students with >80 scores.
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Talking about missing final exams, one time I completely missed a final exam for a course because I incorrectly transcribed the date and time onto my calendar. I was actually kicking ass in that course, getting the highest score in all the preliminary exams and midterm and even getting commended by the professors for my papers (even though I was hazily quoting from books and papers I hadn't read in years), so I thought they would let me sit the exam a day late and I wrote a grovelling letter to the professors to that effect. But the one professor was a mega-bitch and said she was so disappointed that I had skipped the exam and refused to let me take it, so I had to take the zero and it dropped my score from like A+ to C-.

That almost gave me a heart attack, but as luck would have it, I remembered that after the first preliminary exam in the semester, I had actually amended my registration for that course to be pass-fail instead of taking the grade, since the professors scared the shit out of the students by informing us that the first exam scores were abysmally low and everyone needed to study way harder. I had panicked and switched to pass-fail because up to that point, I had been slacking, thinking the course would be one of my "blow-off" courses for the semester. At the time, I thought I was an idiot for switching to pass-fail because when the first preliminary exam scores finally became public, I had almost gotten a perfect score. But the pass-fail ended up being useful in the end because of that zero on the final exam.

And on the topic of course registration, I remember one time, I signed up for a seminar-style course taught by a professor that my friend had highly recommended. The first lecture was quite promising and I was very much looking forward to the rest, but immediately after the first lecture when I rushed over to the library stacks with the reading list in hand to quickly grab all the books before anyone else could get them, I found like the entire class already there, fighting over the necessary books. Unfortunately the books were too obscure to pirate, too expensive to buy, and the library copies already taken by the time I had got there, so I ended up dropping the course the next day on that basis alone.

And also on the topic of hard-to-get course material, I was always sharing my pirated textbooks and other materials with the other students in my classes whenever I signed up for a course. Everyone was always grateful for the free books, but one time I was in a "blow-off" course about WW2 French cinema, and none of the other students in the class could figure out how to watch the pirated films I was offering them. They were all on Apple ecosystem and couldn't figure out how to install VLC I guess, so they all ended up renting the films from Netflix like chumps. Everything about that class was a joke: the students, the professor, the subject matter. The course was originally exclusively taught in French, but too few people were signing up for it, so the French department had to give it up and offer it in English. However, the professor, who had a Jew surname and brash New York City accent, couldn't get over the fact that the department had stripped him of his opportunity to wax loquacious in French about French cinema, so he would regularly "lapse" back into French during his lectures to the annoyance of the students who couldn't understand French. He was such a phony; he would do this thing where he would struggle to recall the English translation of a French word, as if he was more familiar with French than English. But he would often do it with the most obvious French-English cognate; I remember distinctly one day he made a big show of struggling to find the English word for "repulsé", which is just "repulsed".

And on the topic of professors lapsing back into languages they were not supposed to be using for the medium of instruction, one time I took a seminar that the department demanded be explicitly taught in English, both for the lecture/discussion and the written material. But as all the English-speakers gradually started dropping out over the course of the semester, I noticed the professors and students began abandoning English to the point that the only English left was the side-by-side printed translation in the assigned reading. I stuck to it until the end since they still had to accept and grade my papers in English, but found myself with less and less to say in the seminar discussion as the language of instruction started to shift outside of my comfort zone.
 
_01 said:
I didn't participate in our senior prank but it was exceptionally lame. I think they just took plastic utensils from the cafeteria and shoved them all facing upwards in the grass around campus. I'm pretty sure if you got caught doing that you wouldn't even get punished.
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Wait. . .Did you happen to go to my high school?
 
The cringiest thing I ever did in high school was attempt to do a pull up on the chin up bar in gym class when I was in the 9th grade, but of course I couldn't do it because back then I was a hopelessly out of shape nerd who never did anything "athletic" besides ride my bike around town. Hell even the short AF manlets still managed to do at least one pull up. When the other kids at school heard about it and asked me if it was true that I couldn't even do one pull up, I just played it cool and denied everything.

And since I'm on the topic of 9th grade, there was this very weird kid named Justin who only attended my school for one year. He always wore the same black jeans and red and white Starter jacket every single day and he NEVER talked to anyone, ever. He would always sit by himself at lunch and if anyone ever tried to be friendly and talk to him he would just ignore them by burying his head in his backpack and pretend to be asleep. The weirdest thing he did was he would always be running to his next class when inbetween periods (the buildings at my school were divvied up like a college campus) so while everyone else would be walking to class, he was always sprinting across the parking lot at top speed like an autistic Speedy Gonzales. One time some of the dumbass hick kids thought it would be funny if they tried blocking him by standing in his path to see what he would do, but he just ran up this huge seven foot tall snow pile at the edge of the parking lot and jumped down and ran inside. He never came back to my school after freshman year and I have no idea what happened to him, just hope he's doing ok wherever he is now.
 
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millais said:
Talking about missing final exams, one time I completely missed a final exam for a course because I incorrectly transcribed the date and time onto my calendar. I was actually kicking ass in that course, getting the highest score in all the preliminary exams and midterm and even getting commended by the professors for my papers (even though I was hazily quoting from books and papers I hadn't read in years), so I thought they would let me sit the exam a day late and I wrote a grovelling letter to the professors to that effect. But the one professor was a mega-bitch and said she was so disappointed that I had skipped the exam and refused to let me take it, so I had to take the zero and it dropped my score from like A+ to C-.
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In my final semester of college, a date book that started with Monday as the first day instead of Sunday led to my own incorrect transcription of the deadline to submit one class' final assignment for the semester. Once the professor and I got over our initial shock of me turning in an assignment uncharacteristically late and my own realization I misrecorded the date, he accepted my assignment and I kept the A.

I think part of his accepting the late assignment as if it was timely was partly because: (1) The class was a special topics course where professors get evaluated on how many people both take and pass it to determine if the topic should be offered again in future semesters, and (2) I had the reputation for actively participating, interacting with classmates, and doing well on the few graded assignments we had during the semester. The class had less than 10 students, so the professor had a vested interest in making sure we all passed because most classes with that few students enrolling normally got canceled. Instead, he got permission to treat it like an honors course which gave us more leeway and flexibility with both the type of assignments we worked on and how we were graded..

Broseph said:
The cringiest thing I ever did in high school was attempt to do a pull up on the chin up bar in gym class when I was in the 9th grade, but of course I couldn't do it because I was a scrawny weak nerd who never did anything "athletic" besides ride my bike around town. Hell even the short AF manlets still managed to do at least one pull up. When the other kids at school heard about it and asked me if it was true that I couldn't even do one pull up, I just played it cool and denied everything.
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We had similar fitness testing in 8th grade, possibly to prepare us for the fitness testing performed in high school PE. I believe that anyone who scored above the "average range" for at least one of the tested areas received both a certificate and a pin recognizing them as recipients of the Presidential Physical Fitness Award, or something similar. While girls got to do the bent arm hang, boys had to do pull-ups.

A classmate I'll call "Kyle", despite being tall for our class, had zero interest in anything involving physical activity or athletics. The only athletic activity I can recall Kyle ever doing during his time at our K-8 school was maybe dodge ball in 4th grade, minimal participation in the annual spring jog-a-thon, and his cursory efforts in PE class to get the minimal grades he needed to bring home a mark of "Satisfactory" in the lower grades and the equivalent of a C once we hit grades 7 and 8.

As a result, it wasn't surprising Kyle did zero pull-ups and earned himself a bit of teasing from the guys that teased anyone for anything. TBH, I seem to recall Kyle not even trying to do a pull-up; I believe he held on the bar at the teacher's insistence, but then let go instead of trying once she told him to begin. Yes, he literally refused to try to do a single pull-up.

As an ironic twist, our 8th grade PE teacher crossed paths with him a short time after he graduated high school. She claimed that he had turned a new leaf and was now some sort of health and fitness nut. If that really was true, I'd love to know what prompted that change in attitude.
(E: Spelling and clarity)
 
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