…so I says to her, “What’s with the applause? I thought it was just the clap!”
Oh hey there guy. I’m practicing a few lines to make sure I’m well versed for my upcoming high school reunion. It’s been 10 years, and I’m champing at the bit to hang out with all those people that I can limited profile see on facebook. Friend requests still pending.
I’ve spent the last two months patiently waiting for this. It is a once-a-decade event, and a chance to reconnect with some great individuals. And who knows, maybe…BLAH, damnit, I can’t fake it any longer. That was all a ruse. It’s going to suck. I actually spent the last two months avoiding the gym and upping my buffalo wing pretzel crisp intake.
A reunion is very low on my list of priorities right now, probably just a notch above kids and below cleaning the bathroom. However, I feel I should defend myself (and my bathroom) in this instance. I’m not taking this stance because of some traumatic experience in high school, or feelings of superiority. I have some very good reasons for missing this, and you’re sure as hell going to read about it. Get your toilet scrubbers ready, cause this shit’s about to get real.
1) 10 years ago we were all better looking
From what I can remember, high school was filled with people that were a lot better looking than me. Hot people, even. Ten years later, I think life happened. That’s usually the excuse people give when things go south, right? Fat, bald, unkempt. And that’s just me. Everyone else is looking like Fukishima, Class of 2011. Now I understand why open bar was requested.
2) We will have nothing to talk about, aside from Hamsterdam being so so awesome.
Small talk is something that only babies should make (joke!). I don’t mind playing catch-up with a person I haven’t seen in a forever, but doing in 200 times in one night? Bringing a taped message might be more effective. Hey, haven’t seen you in a while. Yep, I’m working at my job, and when I’m not, I’m not. Nope, haven’t been married yet. Child support is a bitch. Yea, can’t wait for our 20-year. Let’s get hammered. I have trouble being interesting over the course of a blog post, and I’m supposed to do that for 2+ hours? Dubious.
3) A few classmates passed away.
Can’t joke when it comes to this one. Meeting up with people after 10 years and then realizing some won’t (can’t) be there is damn scary. And it’s not like it’ll get any easier on down the road. I’m not even good friends with the people that passed. Yea, this is selfish of me. Call it avoidance, but I don’t think that would put me in much of a mood to have fun. Losing anyone before 30 is just cruel.
4) Reconnecting (with women) don’t happen (to me) (o)(o).
A common theme in high school reunion movies, and porn, is that the main character has a chance to reconnect with an old crush for a second chance at first love. Alls I know is that most people go into reunions ready to bang like a 2 year old on a pot. You can bet I’ll have my wooden spoons ready. For serious, rekindling an old flame sounds romantic, but it’s for people stuck in stale relationships yearning for some excitement. That’s something I can do without. It’s just sad. That, and the tall redhead from Geography STILL doesn’t know I exist. Call an ambulance!
5) I never graduated
Man, talk about something so insignificant coming back to bite me in the rear end! Graduating is put up on a pedestal like it’s worth something, outside of a tremendous jump in mean income across all age groups. Diplomas? Is this school even accredited? Oh…well, fair enough. If you’re going to keep bringing that up during our conversations, I will politely thank you for your time and walk away, and head back over to Subway, cause I’m on duty at 8pm.
Wow, this whole thing sounds like a train wreck. Now I’ve convinced myself that this thing could be so bad, I might need to show up and go for the “attending out of a sense of irony” angle. That’s a hipster thing to do, right? Who even knows what magic open bar could bring? Well, I guess I’m a “maybe” after all. I hope to see some of you there. Look for me in the back, perfecting my standardized message response.