When I became a professor, I decided that I'd be the cool professor who carried a stapler with her. I mean, hey, I like office supplies, and a stapler is a very nice thing to own, right?
I thought I'd lend it out to people who had taken their test apart (why do they do this?) Maybe some people would try to hand me an unstapled paper. Then maybe I'd charge them for the use of said stapler. An old trick I learned from the IHM nuns who taught in my school.
I never in a million years thought I'd have to use it to staple my pants shut. On the second day of class. And this particular pair of pants was already a bit big (thankyaverymuch, 8 year old cousin who suggested it was for the opposite reason that I lost my button). I've never been so scared; luckily I managed to spare my student the sight of my ass. For now.