Classmates
Many of us are guilty of looking at others our own age and thinking, "Surely, I can't be that old". If you've ever done this, then you'll appreciate the following.
My name is Alice Smith and I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist. I noticed his DDS diploma, which bore his full name. Suddenly, I remembered a tall, handsome, dark-haired boy with the same name had been in my high school class some 40-odd years ago. Could he be the same guy that I had a secret crush on way back then?
Upon seeing him, however, I quickly discarded any such thought. This balding, grey-haired man with the deeply lined face was way too old to have been my classmate.
After he examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended Morgan Park High School.
"Yes. Yes, I did. I'm a mustang," he gleamed with pride.
"When did you graduate?" I asked.
"In 1965," he replied. "Why do you ask?"
"You were in my class!" I exclaimed.
He looked at me closely ... and then that ugly, old, bald, wrinkled, fat ass, grey-haired decrepit son-of-a-bitch asked, "What did you teach?"
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