My boss got me and two post-docs to drive to Best Buy (around 50 miles north of work) and pick up his new plasma TV that he bought, and haul it to his house (being a professor is great) and assemble the TV stand and hook it all up for him. I hooked his TV together and turned it on, and it started scrolling through all these rather hardcore porno movies like Anal Adventures 8 and Johnny Horsedick Rides Again, and I couldn't get the remote control to work, so my boss and his wife and the post-docs are just standing there 4 feet in front of this 50-something-inch HDTV watching it scroll by. So my boss takes the remote and starts trying to fiddle with it, but he's only making the volume go up, and I quietly stepped into the hallway and bit my hand and tried so, so, so goddamn hard not to piss in my pants laughing. I pulled my shit together after a couple of seconds and walked back in, and my boss looks at me (he's about 65 and has that stodgy Brahmin Indian accent) and says "What is this Anal -- what have you done to my TV?" and I just lose it, utterly. I bust out laughing and it's hurting my cheeks and my hand still hurts, and now all the post-docs are laughing, and my boss is laughing, I'm wiping tears away, and Johnny Horsedick is probably laughing too, and my boss's wife comes into the room with to tell us she made us all some sandwiches and clam chowder.
Eventually I figured out the remote and we ate our chowder and drove back to work, but the rest of the day was just anticlimactic.