When a species turns out to be exactly what I first suspected it to be, despite people doubting my identification skills.
When the taxonomic association suddenly decides to attribute the Latin name of a species I had grown up knowing intimately, to a bird which is not even found on my continent.
When I identify a bird correctly and everyone appears suspicious till an expert walks on to the scene, proclaims the species to be the same and suddenly everyone willingly consents.
When the winning team's strategy at the most recent bird-race was to photograph birds with DSLRs and identify them in their car at leisure while driving to new spots; and the rest of us were stuck with binoculars and fleeting glimpses of birds.
When a "bird photographer" refuses to buy a field guide, but posts or emails photographs of common species on a forum and asks for identification.
When someone announces to me with a surprised look on their faces, "Oh! You know your birds pretty well!"
When I identify a species with its old name, "Hey look! A dabchick!" and a Neo-Nomenclature Nazi retorts, "Don't you mean Little Grebe?"
When I am busy counting birds during a census, get elbowed in the face by an excited bird photographer and lose count.
When yet another "bird photographer" starts boasting about his grand experiences at expensive birding camps held in exotic locations at a gathering.
When someone introduces me to someone else as "This one really can identify birds well!" and the latter immediately says, "Oh! Let's test you shall we? What's that bird?" and points into the distance at a bird.
When a Little Brown Job, or a warbler, or a flycatcher, or a wader, or a bittern goes about skulking and avoids identification.
Source of GIFs, the wonderful #myfriendsaremarried blog.