...Not the kind of wheel you fall asleep at...

"Reunited, and It Feels So Good"

So this Saturday was my 10-year high school reunion. I feel like that is deserving of caps or something:

My 10-Year High School Reunion.

Anyways, it was originally supposed to be at Dave & Buster's (*hork*), but since not enough people sent checks back to hold the room deposit, that idea ended up getting tanked and an informal invite was sent out for folks to meet up at Panini's (which is about as bad as fricking Dave & Buster's, honestly, but at least it didn't cost $35 a pop).

Anyways, I made plans to go with my lovely friend Kristen (I've been friends with her since middle-school and we still stay in touch and hang out), and we met up beforehand so we didn't have to walk into the place all creepstery and by ourselves. (I took pity on E and didn't make him come--I was particularly glad about this after a few husbands slit their throats out of boredom and another one took to wiping his own poo on the walls.) About 15 or so people showed up. Wah wah wahhhhh. I guess I wasn't surprised, but what can you do...

It was a nice and laid-back evening. At least at the start of the night. Folks chatted. Clique-boundaries were traversed for a while, until folks melted back into their old high-school groups again. I suppose this was expected, seeing as I sure as shit wasn't all that interested in talking with people who didn't give me the time of day in high school. As is, I was half-tempted to break off the finger of one chick who I'd spoken to maybe twice in my life during school and who actually STROKED my motherf-ing shoulder all "affectionately" as she made rounds and hugged the girl next to me. Stroked. I kid you not. I mean, I've never stroked the shoulder of anyone I didn't love or pin down on my bed and straddle on a regular basis. Sometimes sticking to your clique is a good thing.

However, the best moment of the night came about 3 or 4 beers in. Tensions were high when a couple high-school rival popular girls showed up. They did some glaring and as the night wore on, and the booze spilled forth plentifully, one girl went up to the other and spit in her face. Everyone nearby stopped mid-sentence and our mouth's hung open in shock. As did the girl who was the recipient of the delightful wad of spit. But her shock only lasted for a second before she reached her delicately-painted, long-nailed hand out and whapped the other girl across the face.

It was then that all hell broke loose. The aforementioned rivals were all fists and nails and hair-chunks and spindly legs whipping at each other as they actually fell to the floor. Everyone else was so pitifully shocked that we all just stood there and watched. Until one of the girl's boyfriends tried to step in and the other girl's boyfriend got peeved about it, shouting, Let them fight, motherfucker! Then part two of fists and boots and hairy arms rolling around on the floor. One of the tall circle tables fell over onto the top of the girls when they hit the base of it, sending an avalanche of coleslaw and sammiches on top of them. Thankfully the beer was unharmed because, at that point, everyone was so into the brawling that we were standing around with beers in hand and woulda been more than happy to have a nice bowl of popcorn nestled in our laps to enjoy the show.

A few more minutes of bitch-popping and ho-dropping and then the bartender came over and broke it up, though not before she got a fingernail ripped off and howled so loud that the folks on the other side of the restaurant who hadn't caught a whiff of the brawl yet, all turned their heads. That was when she jammed the base of her hand straight up into the nose of the first chick and bloodied it all over the goddamn place, to our cheers of delight.

Boyfriend #1 picked himself up with his shirt half-torn off, boyfriend #2 with a patch of his long hair missing. Girl #1 had lost three of her red fingernails and her hair was all askew. Girl #2's sarong skirt was pretty much disengaged enough that you could see a rather unbecoming pair of granny panties beneath and her nose-blood was smudged all over her cheeks and her skimpy shirt.

On that note, we were all asked to disperse and our High School Reunion was officially over with until 2015. But who could forget such a night, I mean seriously? Could it have gotten any better than this??

(In reality: the actual events of the evening would've bored you to death, seeing as you know no one that I'd be speaking about anyways. Suffice it to say, I was actually surprised by the evening--I got to spend time with two of my closest friends from high school whom I've not seen in about 8 years or so. And it was GOOD. And we exchanged email addresses. And I've already chatted with one of them over email this morning.

It was wild and crazy though to see these folks with the mindset and speech of parents. One of my friends has 3 children, the other just had her first. These were meek and insecure women in high school who have finally fallen into their own, both feet planted firmly on the ground, and both shoulders out to carry the world on them. It was great.

I also received several complaints from people that they were disappointed that my hair was not bright pink or weirdly-cut or something along those lines. Demanding bitches.

*AND*--and this part is actually true--I found out that my best friend for most of high school actually lived on the same block as me in Tremont for a good three years or so, moving out about 6 months before I moved in. After much amazement about that fact (and the realization when I returned home that night that I'd been telling her that I lived on the wrong street--W. 10th instead of W. 11th) I came into work today to find out not only did she live nearby where I currently live, she lived *IN THE SAME HOUSE AS ME*--the front apartment of my nice red and blue building. Talk about the fucked up and interwoven webs of fate, man. How weird is that?)



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