Sunday, November 06, 2005

The Reunion

I'm sure you're wondering how it went. It was Friday night. I was on a crash course with that date all week. School work. Work work. Freelance work. Multiple deadlines converging, culminating with Friday, the date of the reunion.

The Day Of
I arranged with my boss to leave work at 2:00 pm. Two hours to get ready, then a two-hour car ride to the Jersey shore. The event begins at 7:00. Somewhere I read "sharp" after the time. Yeah, right. Errands after work: the cleaners and the car wash. Fax an invoice to a client. Print business cards to take with me. Still need to decide what to wear. What Gary should wear.

Forget the Dress
Bought a dress. Having second thoughts. Recent Reunion Update email said "dressy casual." What in the hell is dressy casual? The dress cost $100. I don't need it—it's going back. I've got plenty of slacks. Casual means slacks, right? Tried the dress on one more time. Damn, it looks good. Normally thrifty hubby says, "Won't you need a dress for the holidays?" Bad influence.

Got out the slacks. A nice Boutique pants outfit: Long vest, loose pants with drawstring waist, in plum and gold. Had it for years. Looks exotic. With raspberry longsleeve poloshirt and gold jewelry, burgundy boots. Great! Definitely dressy casual. And, a different look from last time, for sure. At least they won't be able to tell I ate Halloween candy all week long. (Was a stressful week.) Did my hair. Certainly no longer blonde. Looks good. Hubby's dressed: blazer, sports shirt, black dress pants; new black shoes. Dressy casual, I guess! I tell him he's my trophy husband. I want to show him off (he's not fat and bald). Let's go.

Arrival
So, we're a half-hour late. I called it fashionable. We're accosted at the front door by Nancy and Paul. Marjy meets us just inside. OK, there's our table. What, no dinner? Just a four-hour cocktail party? With a cash bar? Before the first margarita goes to my head, I struggle to figure out what I paid 80 bucks for. Well, the Lobster Shanty is on the Manasquan Inlet in Pt. Pleasant Beach. And, we did get a color booklet with everyone's bio and contact info, plus a CD with "Sounds of the Class of 1975" on the label. No complaining to the committee; they look haggard. I'm sure it was a thankless job. We settled in for the evening.

An Amazing Time
Lots of suits and short black dresses. What happened to dressy casual? I scan the room and scramble to remember names (mostly, I look at the name tags many wear). It's been 30 years. At this point, sometimes I can identify people by their eyes. Vague recollections come to me. Thank God for the tags. Could have done without my high school yearbook picture on mine, though. Gary says, "Gee, the glasses look just like the ones you're wearing now." Why did I bring him, anyway?

Oh, my God, I loved you in high school! Hugs, kisses. Hey, is that you, Joanne? More hugs, kisses. Jerry from grade school. A long talk with his wife, who I just met. Sweet girl! Bob, you lived across the street from me! Harriet, smart and crazy in high school (we loved her), greets us: "So, are you the one who spawned an MIT graduate?" Harriet, all the way from Anchorage. Lisa, so sweet; possibly a new friend? Kim has on the dress I almost wore. Glad I decided against it. Compliments on my outfit. It's very different. (And dressy casual, damn it.)

So many people I didn't know well then. I was too shy. I want to get to talk to them now, though. And,who's to say I can't? They're cops, housewives, artists, social workers, architects, salespeople now. Some are married; some are single. Some started families early; some late. Some live in Pt. Pleasant, some in California. Romances that lasted, those that didn't. High school crushes confessed now. I tell Gary he's a sport for putting up with all this. Then, The Class Picture.

After Party
It's 11:30 and they're throwing us out. The night is young. Where're we going? The Ark, a favorite pub, a couple of miles away along a deserted, ocean-front road. There in 10 minutes. We fill the place. Pitchers of beer. Nacho platters. Calamare. Wings. We're thirsty; the beer tastes good. The food is great. More high school stories. Nancy's cousin, a long-haired "pothead" then, is the life of the party. Now a painting contractor, he looks like Richard Gere. What a riot! I'm falling on the floor, laughing. The football team all together. The class officers. The rest of us. All together, saying how we have to do this more often. So sad to see it all end. Some will go on to breakfast in Allenwood the next morning, others to a benefit for the retired football coach Saturday night. As for Gary and I, we're heading to Gary's mom's, about an hour away. Good thing he wasn't drinking. I was asleep before we got out of Pt. Pleasant.

Saturday Morning
Who the hell hit me in the head? And with what? I need coffee. Gary has to get to a Robotics competition. Mom's voice hurts my head. Everything hurts my head. Margaritas, then beer? What was I thinking? I rarely drink either, never mind both. I have too much to do today to be in this condition. OK, let's just get through the day. Three ibuprofren. Just like old times.

But, thoughts of Nancy, Marjy, Joanne, Lisa, Linda, Bob, Jerry, Frannie, Drew, Harriet, Wendy, Debbie, Mary Lou, and more, and everyone, came into my head. Was it worth it? You bet. We have to do it more often. Maybe I'll send out a group email and invite everyone out to our place next summer. You don't think they'd all come, do you?

1 Comments:

Blogger Lauren D. McKinney said...

According to http://www.modernetiquette.com/dress%20code%20article/dressy_casual.htm, dressy casual means highlighted hair and a swimming pool.

3:03 PM  

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