Have you ever been guilty of looking at others your own age and thinking, surely I can’t look that old?
As I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist, I noticed his full name on the diploma he had on the wall. Suddenly, I remembered that 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.
Still … 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.
He answered, “In 1967. Why do you ask?”
“You were in my class,” I exclaimed.
He looked at me closely.
Then, that ugly, old, bald, wrinkled faced, fat-assed, gray-haired, decrepit son-of-a-bitch asked, “What class did you teach?”