The Yet Wah Story

My 40^th high school reunion is mere days away. I’m not going. For any number of reasons.

I’m not quite sure how 40 years (40!? YEARS!?!) have passed since I wore an inflatable penguin on my head while accepting my diploma (my high school had a tradition of allowing rather festive decorations on the required and highly disposable cap and gown). While it does not seem like just yesterday, it does not seem like last century either. Time is weird.

See? Festive!
I wore the little slug on my shoulder
at my college graduation, too.

Nevertheless, 40 years feels like sufficient time to safely and publicly tell one of my favorite stories from my final days of high school.

It was June 1986. I was a senior in Mr. Goldman’s 2^nd period Calculus class in a suburb of San Francisco. There were only about 15 of us in the class, mostly guys, all oozing with college prep intensity despite it being a public school.

Instead of desks, we sat at round tables of four. This fostered collaboration, friendship, and the bonding that survival trauma stokes. It was a tough class, geared entirely towards the Advanced Placement test administered at the end of the year. There were two AP test options –  the easier AB and the harder BC – and a score range of 1-5. Mr. Goldman taught with the clear expectation that we would all take the BC test and would score 4s and 5s as a direct reflection of his teaching prowess.

In addition to the standard tests and quizzes (large boards sat in an X on our tables on test days to prevent cheating), we had periodic Homework Quizzes. The purpose of these quizzes was to encourage us to do all the assigned homework, not just cram before the tests.

As a lifelong rule follower, the Homework Quizzes were the easiest tests of my entire education. All that was required was to simply copy our answers – showing all of our work – from our homework notebooks onto the test paper.  “February 18, Question 14.” Flip, flip, flip, find the date and question, copy it down, easy peasy. No studying or anxiety required.

Unless, like my friend Jon L., you didn’t do your homework.

As the end of the school year approached, Mr. Goldman threw a huge curveball. There would be a Homework Quiz covering the entire semester, and it would be worth a significant number of points. I was elated! Easy points!

Jon was terrified.

As class that morning was ending, Jon asked me in a quiet panic if he could borrow my Homework Notebook to make a copy. I was stunned by the bold request. I mean, I had done all the work and he thought I’d just hand it over?! I told him I would think about it.

The next morning, I had a counteroffer.

“I’ll give you my notebook for one night. In return, you have to pay for my dinner of pot stickers at Yet Wah.”

To be clear, I had zero interest in Jon romantically. This offer was entirely food motivated (some things never change…). I absolutely LOVED the pan-fried dumplings at my favorite Chinese restaurant. I still consider them the Gold Standard of Pot Stickers. The idea of eating as many as I wanted at Jon’s expense was quite tantalizing.

PERFECTION!
Photo taken at Yet Wah in 2017 when I 
convinced my aunt to experience pot sticker heaven 
while on a shared trip to the Bay Area.

Jon quickly agreed to the deal. Because I’m me, I decided we needed to make sure this agreement was clearly understood and put in writing. I was not about to be conned out of my pot stickers!

Of course I saved it.

Apparently I was one of the few students who faithfully completed the Calculus homework every night. Word quietly but quickly spread that Jon had my notebook. Others desperately wanted copies, too.

Jon, being a savvy deal maker himself, told the other guys (they were all guys…) that he had to pay for my dinner at Yet Wah in return for borrowing my notebook. So if they got copies, they would have to chip in to pay for my pot stickers.

In just a matter of days, it appeared most of Mr. Goldman’s 2^nd Period Calculus class was treating me to dinner. As long as I got my free pot stickers…and the safe return of my extremely valuable homework notebook…I was quite pleased.

Then Mr. Goldman got word of it.

Not the notebook transaction, the Yet Wah dinner.

I don’t know exactly what he overheard, but he got super excited. He was so touched that his students had bonded so deeply that we wanted to have a dinner together! He enthusiastically invited himself along, and then sweetened the deal by offering to treat the entire class to fancy desserts in San Francisco afterwards.

Before Jon and I knew what was happening, the plan exploded into the entirety of 2^nd Period Calculus – including Mr. Goldman – having dinner together at Yet Wah, followed by fancy treats at Just Desserts. All in San Francisco instead of our quiet suburb. It would be a celebration to remember!

And it was! At least for me. I was quite the princess.

I didn’t have to drive or pay a bridge toll or find parking. I was chauffeured around like royalty.

The dinner was fun, if not a bit awkward. Ever have a group dinner with your math teacher? Weird!

By far, though, the very best part was when the bill came.

Everyone – except me! – had to pay for their own dinner. Plus a number of them divvied up the cost of mine. Lots of fast math, muttered numbers, and dollar bills were passed to Jon literally under the table. Mr. Goldman was at the far end of the table, totally oblivious to the shenanigans that prompted the meal and to the chaotic money exchange happening under his nose.

All the while, me and my Chesire grin sat back and relaxed, totally satisfied and satiated.

And yes, I got my notebook back. And yes, all of 2^nd Period Calculus rocked the Homework Quiz.

I have SO many photos of my friend Grant
giving me that look Senior year! He was so
tired of my camera. I'm grateful I didn't care!