Old 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, gray-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, 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, gray-haired, decrepit son-of-a-bitch asked, 'What did you teach?'

Contributed by Carol Hurst Roach