Here is my favorite math teacher story:<br><br>
I'm half way through Math 12(probably pre-calc-ish). My teacher, Peter Pidgeon(yes, his real name) calls me to his desk after class one day. He says "Morticia(his nickname for me), Morticia, you've peaked. You can't learn any more math. Drop my class and take health". Which I did, which was delightfully easier than math 12.<br><br>
I was a straight A math student up until Trig(grade 11). That year I drove into school with my brother and we smoked a joint every morning. Trig was first period with Stan the man Meade who spoke very monotone and slowly. If I wasn't giggling, I was sleeping.