Ghosts of teachers past are beginning to haunt me

Note from me: This post is mostly going to be humorous only for those that attended Blessed Sacrament grade school, so I apologize in advance if you don't find this very entertaining.  Also, it will contain childish jokes.  Get ready for it.

When I was in junior high we had a religion teacher fondly referred to as Shrinedog.  She was a woman that had absolutely no classroom management and sported a permed mullet.  I realize that kind of hair is difficult to imagine so I am providing a visual.

This might actually be her.  There's no way of knowing.

As the years went by, I very rarely thought of Shrinedog and she really only came up when I was reminiscing about the glory days of junior high with friends.  But then while subbing at one of the junior high schools on Thursday, the guidance counselor walked out of her office.

And it was Shrinedog.

My face made a half smile and I appeared polite and pleasant.  But inside my head I was screaming, "Oh my gosh!!!!!  Shrinedog!!!  SHRINEDOG!!!!!!!"  

I couldn't believe it.  Still can't actually.  I thought she had disappeared forever, and here she reappears at one of the schools I work at.  She definitely didn't recognize me, for which I am eternally grateful.  I naturally grew curious about this woman so I asked the kids her name.  And it's different now.  No wonder I didn't know she still existed!  It's something like Vanderhagenburgosky.  The kids really didn't say much about her, but I would love to know if their feelings are the same as those of myself and my peers.  I would bet they'd be a little bit different though.  The permed mullet is gone, after all.  An icon of my childhood, destroyed forever.

I'm sure you've noticed that the title of this post says "ghosts", plural.  And no, that's not a typo.  I have had another encounter.

While working at Younkers today rumors began flying around that girl scout cookies were being sold in the mall.  So during my lunch break I had planned to find them after eating.  While power walking to the food court I heard a child's voice call out, "Hey!  Wanna buy some girl scout cookies?"

My response?  "Yes!  Is that even a question?  There's no way that can be a hard sell."  

The girls were excited and we discussed what kinds I wanted (Girl: There's more kinds on the other side.  Me: Oh, I know what all the kinds are.), and whether or not the new cinnamon kind were better than peanut butter patties (they're not, I insisted the girls be real with me and they were).  Then, while the chaperoning moms were debating whether or not to accept my check (I look very, very sketchy while wearing khakis, a cardigan, and a Younkers nametag) (note: previous parentheses contained sarcasm) I started to feel like one of the moms looked very familiar.

I left with my boxes of cookies and thought more about her face while I ate my lunch.  And then it came to me.  She was Mrs. Bighead.

I know, I know, that's a terrible, awful, completely cruel nickname.  But it's also accurate.  She does have a large head.  She was one of our substitute teachers when I was in junior high and I again can't believe that she's still around.  She's no longer wearing awkward 80s floral dresses, but her hair looks exactly the same.  Kind of a gigantic circle of black curls ringing her face.  Not in an afro way though, just a lot of close, tight curls way.  Sounds the same but it's not.  I tried to find a visual but it doesn't exist.  

I honestly don't remember much about her except how she looked and that she had a gravely voice.  I also don't remember any of us liking her, but I'm not entirely sure why.  

The lesson here?  These people are still among us.