I can’t recall any strange teachers I’ve had, but my older sister had a teacher she called “Fergy”, short for “Fergeson”. One time my older brother, my older sister, and me were at the cinema, and my older sister was saying, “look, there’s Fergy.” She was pointing at this woman, but I knew that couldn’t be the real Fergy, because I was sure the real Fergy weighed at least 300 lbs., and I knew she had fangs. So I yelled real loud, “FERGY, WHERE?” My sister slid down in her seat, saying, “Oh God, Mark, God!” I was saying, “Where is Fergy? I don’t see Fergy.” That incident was a conversation piece for a while at our house.
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Talk about wierd, my 4th grade teacher Mr. Daily, used to feel up all us little girls butts when we stood in line at his desk to ask him a question.
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