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Getting Old
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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 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 northmont high school.
'Yes. Yes, I did. I'm a thunderbolt,' 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 faced, fat-ass, gray-haired, decrepit son-of-a-bitch
asked, 'what did you teach?'
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