New Dentist

I was sitting in the waiting room for my first appointment with a new dentist. I noticed his DDS diploma on the wall, which bore his full name. Suddenly, I remembered a tall, handsome, dark-haired boy with the same name who 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,

wrinkle-faced,

fat-assed,

gray-haired,

decrepit,

son-of-a-bitch

asked...

'What did you teach?'