I'm in high school and off to gym class. I have no idea where my locker is, and the location of my uniform eludes me. I look in other lockers to see if somebody else's uniform is available, but all I find are spare keys, old rusty locks, and that smell.
The gym teacher says that because I forgot my uniform I have to referee a girls' game and act as score keeper. Two teams of girls are dashing back and forth across a modified hopscotch board, trying to catch or stop a young lady bouncing a football like a basketball. I have never seen such a game, and have no idea how to referee it. Fortunately the young ladies are reliable self-policers, and one has even begun keeping score on a chalkboard. Within minutes it is 9-2.
When class ends I am walking with my classmates back to the locker room. Some of them are high school classmates from 20 years ago, others are current students of mine. Some of them ask me if I know anyone who can buy beer. They are going to a party at my sister's house. "My sister can buy her own beer," I say. "She is is 36." They are blown away by this information.
Then I am sitting with the gym teacher at a long table. He is showing me old faded black and white photos of me in high school doing stupid things. He offers me a teaching job which I accept. Then other teachers join us. We talk about musicians who are teachers we all know.