High School Reunion

Did I ever tell you about my high school reunion? Reacquainting myself with 39 classmates should have brought more joy.

My classmates were nice people, but our small town in SD had little entertainment outside of the weekly keg party. The "alcohol as entertainment" philosophy didn't hold up well over 20 years. One girl(?) arrived at the reunion in a wheelchair, having paralyzed herself in a drunk driving car accident. Another had spent time in the slammer for selling drugs. Yet another had driven drunk and killed his kid, then had to give a speech to us about it as a rehab assignment.

One guy thought he was Mr. Success because he now owned a car dealership out east (news flash, none of us were impressed by car salesmen when we were 8, and that hasn't changed 30 years later). And worst of all, my teeny bop Adonis showed up bald and flabby.

I skipped out early partly because it was so depressing, and partly because I'd gotten up at 5 am to drive there and was exhausted. My favorite part of the evening was talking to a former classmate/biker chick who showed me all her tattoos.