Mrs. Highberger

When I was in elementary school, we had one of those secretaries in the principle's office who was Not To Be Trifled With. She had a stern face, a pointed nose, a pursed mouth, and a glare that could make a 6th grade bully soil his undergarments. Her name was Mrs. Highberger, and if you approached her desk, she gave you a look through those half-moon glasses that suggested you'd better get to the point. Quickly. I made the mistake of calling her by her first name, Gloria, once. I'll never forget the tongue-lashing I got. I saw her last summer, while visiting my hometown. I must have stared, accidentally, because when she caught me looking at her, I got the Highberger Glare that iced my insides and made my palms sweat. Clearly, she's still got it.