Monday following the encounter in the general store I stopped at the accountant's office to pick up my completed tax returns. Yikes.
The lady who went over the details with me was a former student, junior high math, 1969-1971.
A block up the street to visit the post office where I needed to post a letter, thus standing behind the guy who was at the counter. He turned and greeted me.
"Just yesterday a friend was admiring my chess board and your name came up in the conversation."
"Really? Do you still play chess?"
"Well, I have some really nice chess sets."
"Likewise," I remarked. "But I fear my game is pretty much gone."
"I know when I used to play against you that the best I could hope for was to drag it out as long as I could, because I knew what was coming in the end."
"Yeah. Did you make the other guys play a game before you paddled them, or was I special?"
"Oh, you were special, no doubt." Dorothy, the postal clerk, is grinning at this point. "The question is, Did it do you any good?"
The people lined up behind us were clearly being entertained.
"You were the first teacher I ever heard swear."
"Say what? When did you ever hear me swear?"
"On the bus lot at dismissal. I threw an egg at a girl, hit her, too. You were looking around to see who did it and I stepped up and said, I threw the egg. You said, Mr. T, Monday morning first thing, my office. Your ass is grass and I'm the lawnmower."
"I might have said that, I assented. "So what happened on Monday?"
"Well, you went pretty easy on me, because the girl's mother had called and told you that her daughter had it coming!"
As we turned to walk out of the building he said, "I wouldn't have that job these days."
"Nor would I. When I was principal I thought I had the best job in the world. Still think so, but I wouldn't last an hour nowadays."
Farewells, nice talking with you, good to see you, and so on.