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 that a tall, handsome, dark-haired boy with the same name had been in my high school class some 50-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. Or could he?
After he examined my teeth, I asked him if he had attended Glendale High School.
"Yes! Yes, I did! I'm a Mustang!"
"When did you graduate?"
"in 1957. Why do you ask?"
"You were in my class!"
He looked at me closely. Then, that ugly, old, wrinkled, bald, fat, gray, decrepit son-of-a-you-know-what asked ... "what did you teach?"
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