I remember that day as if t were yesterday. I was a senior in high school and I was in the zone. I was impressing my teachers, talking it up with the ladies, smiling in slow motion as I walked down the hallway as a gentle breeze attempted to move my 1993 hairstyle…my jeans couldn’t have fit better. I swaggered through the parking lot after school as I made my way to my boss pick-up truck with the sunroof. I slowly closed the door behind me as I gazed at the rear view mirror in absolute horror — there, on my right cheek, was an inch-long trail of dried blood that looked like a dead fuzzy caterpillar.
Life Lesson #34
Never scratch at a zit in first period while sitting in class.