In high school, I got one of my professors (a close family friend) to write me a great recommendation for an Ivy League school. I Didn't get accepted and went somewhere else. A while ago, I came back home for break and caught the flu. I decided to go out with friends to a restaurant anyway. As a joke, I decided to wear the exact same cardigan that The Big Lebowski wears. At the restaurant, I got sicker and my eyes started turning red. I later spot the teacher who wrote my recommendation sitting at the bar. I Pray he doesn't approach me, He does. I look like a crack head who has hit rock bottom. He asks me "if everything is okay?" I say "yes." He still thinks I developed drug problem, and he gives me his business card (he's switched professions to a social worker).
Next day, I lose my wallet at a gas station. Two days later, get a phone call. It's a guy with a heavy Jamaican accent saying he found my wallet and wants to return it. I asked him how he got my number, since it wasn't anywhere in the wallet and he says he found a business card in my wallet and called that guy to see if he knew what my address was. When I go get my wallet, the Jamaican guy asks if I want to buy drugs from him.
Now teacher thinks I owe a Jamaican drug dealer money, and contacts my parents.
