Oh I wasn't a stranger to being late at all. But this was the first day of class, and I was like 45 minutes late.
Ok I can see that. I likewise was no stranger to dropping classes. I dropped a calc class because, during the first and second days, the instructor demonstrated a peculiar habit where he frequently paused in his lecture, took out a handkerchief, blew his nose, and kid you not, then wiped the entire open hanky completely over his face and head, and then resumed. He did this at least 5-6 times in class on the initial day, almost like someone else might pause for a sip of water. It was honestly nauseating. But that was a core class for my major, and other sessions when it was offered were not as convenient. So I gave it another day. And he repeated the same cycle during day 2. 5 of us spontaneously rose up and stumbled out mid class (it was held in a smaller CoL classroom so it caused fair amount of ruckus), hustled directly over to Thackary, and changed classes. Judge me how you will.
There are other instructors horror stories though none quite on that bio hazard level. There was the comp sci professor from Poland who spoke not one single word of English, and I mean it, not a word. The other CS prof who wore dark glasses and a trench coat during class, and got deported mid term, leaving a woefully inadequate TA to finish teaching the term. Another prof who walked over and kicked the shin of one of the students (no, not me) because he had fallen asleep during lecture. A 100 level math instructor who taught in bare feet, though that’s a generous term, as his “teaching” consisted on wordlessly filling an entire chalkboard with formulas, for at least 40 minutes straight, finally turning to the class and gesturing at the board, basically as if to say, there y’go, good luck… and then left silently.
Probably the worst, however, was a Boolean algebra instructor who required us to buy his book for the class. Not so strange there, but in this case the “book” was a collection of loose leaf papers that he had his wife type up (with a real typewriter…this was ‘back in the day’) which he got copied at kinkos and bound together in a cheap plastic cover, which cracked immediately, so papers frequently flew out or got mangled in the backpack And he made us pay for it … $40 (this in 1985 money)… cash only … paid directly to him …RIGHT IN THE CLASSROOM, because he boasted he wasn’t willing to go through those “crooks” in the Pitt bookstore. On top of that, his wife was a terrible typist, so the ‘book’ had dozens if not hundreds of typos, including in the homework sections. Umpteen times I couldn’t figure out the homework problem, beating my head against the desk for hours, deep into the night, only to learn in the following class that the problem had typos. Ended up networking with other students, and if at least three of us couldn’t figure out a problem by like 11:00 the evening before the class, we determined it likely had a typo and gave up.
Yeah I stuck out for all THOSE classes, and finished those terms, but the hanky-panky prof was a deal breaker.