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Fellas, it's time for NARB theatre.
#7
When I was in middle school, I had a huge crush on my Art teacher. She was a beautiful, brunette and 24 years old. My infatuation bordered on out right love and I had her as my Art teacher for all three years of my middle school stint.

When I was in seventh grade, She and our Gym teacher fell in love and had soon set a wedding date due for the spring of my eighth grade year, the week after school let out.

The Gym teacher was an ex-NBA player, totally fit, very athletic and handsome and made a practice of playing basketball with the kids who wanted to at lunch time. As it turns out he had a type of heart disease that weakened his aorta, effectively making it weak as an eighty year old mans. So as he drove to the basket for an easy layup, his heart exploded and he died on the spot.

So the school organized a viewing at the funeral home where the kids all filed past the body of our beloved Gym teacher, with his fiance, my Art teacher stood by his side and cried.

I arranged it so that I was the last person to file through the line of kids and when she saw me, since there was no one left, she embraced me and we stood there alone for at least twenty minutes while she cried in my shoulder. As stood there in front of his casket in her embrace, I felt an embarrassing rise in my pants that I couldn't help. I felt soooo confused. I had dreamed of her embrace for years but I didn't think it would ever happen like this. After I left the funeral home I never saw my teacher again.
"Sir, You need to get out of your car, there is a train comming."
"Why ummm... uhhh did you ummm... feel the need to errrrr, god why can't I type!!"
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