This student, who is FAILING BOTH of his classes might I add, regaled me with stories of personal grandeur and success:
"I am literally the smartest person I know."
"I never mess up, when I write something I don't even have to check it because I know that it is literally perfect."
"When I was in high school, while the other students were turning in 3 page papers every week, I was handing in 500 page papers on a weekly basis." (This is the point in the conversation where I felt like killing myself for a second).
"I am so smart that when I was in high school I was taking college level work. I was smarter than the teacher. The teachers couldn't compete with my level of intellect."
"You think it's hot in Arizona, I live in Cheyenne! In the summer it can reach temperatures of 130 degrees!" (I think he was confusing his po-dunk town in the middle of Wyoming with Baghdad, or the center of the Sun).
This conversation was sprinkled with me making chocking gestures to my co-workers and tiny amounts of animal like rage.
For the most part I really love my job. It's only at times like these where I feel like hoping on a plane and hunting down the idiot at the other end of the phone and smacking them across the face.