I used to work at a college computer lab, where students would go to write papers, check email, play games, and just do whatever they want. So this one day this student (at least 18 years old or so) walks in to the lab, looks around with a confused look on her face, and eventually finds the Lab Assistant desk (i.e., me). She wore neon-colored hippie clothes, wore about 50 plastic bracelets on her wrists, sported glitter all over her face and eyelids, and had a different color of nail polish on each finger.
So she finally comes up to me to state her case.
Girl: "Um, hi. I need to write a research paper, and I need some help."
Me: "Okay, so... what's the problem?"
Girl: "Well, I just need to have it typed up, but I don't know what a research paper is and I can't type. Do you think you could help me, or type it up for me? *giggle* It's due in an hour. *giggle*"
It took every ounce of willpower not to burst into laughter. Out of sympathy I told her that I would at least read through her 'rough draft' that she got back from the professor, which was graded a D- (also most likely out of sympathy.) The 'research paper' was a page and a half about raving--or, rather, 'how to rave'. It was about dancing to strobe lights, glow wands, and licking lollipops. First graders could've written a better paper, which was illustrated by the use of words such as 'gooder' (these 'words' were marked by the professor in large letters "THIS IS NOT A WORD!!!")
I gave the paper back to her and told her she would have to re-write it herself. By the time my shift ended she only had a paragraph and was struggling to find a specific letter she wanted on the keyboard. Not surprisingly, it was the last I ever saw of her at the college. I love telling this story :)