But this weekend, I'll finally be going to my high school's 40th reunion. I'm looking forward to it and, to be honest, I'm a little nervous. Hopefully, I won't cause too many people to hurl when they see what's happened to me since the last time we saw each other, decades ago.
On the other hand, more than a few folks probably won't even remember me. In that case, I'm prepared to bus tables or help the staff clean up.
|I have experience, after all.|
In any case, ready or not, here I go. Wish me luck. Especially that I don't get pantsed.
Oh, by the way, there'll be a Halloween repost on Monday.
Found out, via Facebook (how else does anyone find out anything
|Plus, Facebook has neat |
Bill Murray memes.
Thank goodness I have over six months to prepare. Gotta start working on my six-pack abs, you know.
|Since the reunion is before the election,|
this will give us the opportunity to
discuss political science
with Trump supporters.
Remember, I graduated forty years ago. Which makes me...come on, you can do the math.
This will be only the second one I've attended. Our first, a five year reunion, happened in 1981 (Because Math).
While fun, it wasn't as much fun as I had hoped. After only a few years, there was still a "high school" feel to it. Meaning, I didn't think it was necessary for the jocks to pants me and stuff me in a tree.
Plus, since I had just gotten married only a few months prior, I thought Mrs. Penwasser #1 would have a great time at a picnic with total strangers. That she ended up being my ex-wife may or may not be related.
What's more, the "Girl Who Broke My Heart" was also there. Even though I (okay, I admit it) flaunted my new wife in front of my old girlfriend, it was still kind of awkward. Especially when I punched her boyfriend.*
A lot has happened since that time. Mrs. Penwasser #1 came to her senses. I got out of the Navy. I met Mrs. Penwasser #2. She apparently lost her mind when she consented to be Mrs. Penwasser #2. I went back into the Navy when my dream of being a wealthy Italian Food Transportation Representative (at Dominos) didn't bear fruit. I raised two wonderful children (who, remarkably, are attractive and well-adjusted). I retired from the Navy.
|And now clean sixteen toilets a night, five nights a week. |
Yep, I'm an American success story living the dream.
Wonder if that pizza gig is still available?
In all that time, though, I wondered about my former classmates. Sure, I was able to grab snippets of information about them here or there. But, for the most part, I lost touch with them. Or they lost touch with me. Smart folks, that Class of '76.
|This is probably the Al Penwasser they remember.|
After looking at their profile pictures, I see that they're all looking great. In fact, I know of only one who looks quite a bit worse for wear.
|Meaning I'd better hit the gym and |
get some of that Grecian formula stuff.
|Captain of the football team has seen better days, though**|
I don't know whether the "Girl Who Broke My Heart" will be in
|"He's still on that 'abs' thing."|
You may be surprised that I've taken to adding snarky little comments whenever my former classmates post something. On the other hand, what am I saying? You can't possibly be surprised. In this way, I hope they think, "Hey, remember that nerdy Penwasser guy? He sounds so hip and with it. And what a scream! He'll be the life of the party!"
Meaning: I bet I get stuffed in a tree.
EPILOGUE: When I mentioned I was going to the reunion for the Class of '76, one of my Facebook friends (once again, where else?) made what I thought was an outstanding comment: "That's fantastic! Now you'll be able to see each other in color!"
Young punk. I am so gonna head to his house and kick his ass.
After my nap.
*Yeah, this is completely false. He wasn't even there. Plus, he was bigger than me.
**JUST KIDDING, JUST KIDDING! I don't even remember who it was. But, I guarantee he's bigger than me.