Sunday, January 20, 2008

From Today's Correspondence

Dear Chef,

My name is Alice Smith and earlier this week I had an interesting experience.

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 who had been in my high school class some 30-odd years ago. Could this possibly be the same guy 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 WAAAYY 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 1967. 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 so-and-so asked...

"Really? What did you teach?"

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