If you missed the other Reunion posts, you should consider reading them first (if you are on the home page you can just scroll down, otherwise, you can click these: 1, 2, 3, 4). Synopsis: I went to my reunion. I didn’t think it’d be that fun. It at first seemed that I was right. I ended up talking to people (some of whom claimed to read my blog), being excited to see who people had become, and closing down a bar at 1AM. I thought I would be home by ten. This was not quite what I had expected.
With my name tag in place and drink tickets in hand, I headed in to the party. At the door someone was offering some kind of limoncello thing. I demurred, still distracted with the whole drink coupon thing, and not wanting to waste a ticket on such, and unable to deal with interacting with the person dispensing the cocktail.
Just inside the main room I ran into a guy who played trumpet in the band. He asked me if I drank alcohol. Obviously he had not been reading my blog. I replied in the affirmative. He seemed disappointed. It turned out that the limoncello cocktail that I had just eschewed was gratis and gratifying. He was recruiting people who would go get additional cocktails for his wife to whom I had just been introduced. With this new information, I decided to revisit the limoncello station. He was right. It was free, fizzy, and fantastic. I later went back and got another. Contrary to his apparent belief, there was no system in place to enforce a one-per-customer policy, or really, any indication that such a policy was in place.
Drink in hand, I looked around for the Cutest Girl at Crestline. The previous night I learned that she was a teacher and appeared to be single. I had hoped that though I never had a chance to be with her in elementary school, that now, being reasonably fit and possessing both hair and a Ph.D. would be worth something. There she was. I walked up to a conversation en medias res. I’m not sure that I was acknowledged. The conversation I stepped in to felt a bit awkward, though I had been standing there too long to just walk away by the time I realized it. The and-what-have-you-been-up-to questions should have been innocuous, but her marriage had recently ended. There seemed to be one clumsy question after another. The inquisitors walked away, and as I was composing a clever and empathetic way to say “golly, that was awkward, they obviously haven’t lived through a divorce like you and I” she excused herself. Apparently a good haircut and an advanced degree was not enough. Disappointed, I mused that her disinterest was because of her own internal struggle, not because of anything having to do with me.
Sure the Cutest Girl was still cute, in looking around the room, I was struck by how attractive the women were. I am not quite sure how I was invited to be part of this photograph, but I was quite pleased to be in the midst of such beautiful women my own age.
This was shaping up to be a good night.