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 30-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. YES, I DID. I'M A MUSTANG," HE GLEAMED WITH PRIDE.
WHEN DID YOU GRADUATE?" I ASKED.
HE ANSWERED, "IN 1975. WHY DO YOU ASK?"
"YOU WERE IN MY CLASS!", I EXCLAIMED.
HE LOOKED AT ME CLOSELY. THEN THAT UGLY, OLD, BALD, WRINKLED, FAT ASS, GRAY-HAIRED, DECREPIT SON-OF-A-BITCH ASKED, "WHAT DID YOU TEACH?"
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