What does it say about me that I was expecting to be punched in the nose or maybe even shot when I arrived at my 20 year class reunion? That I'm paranoid? Yes. That I pissed off a lot of people? That too.
I managed to walk away unscathed but maybe that's because of the low attendance. I think we only had 200 people in my class and a little over a tenth of that showed up. Even out of my core group of friends fewer attended than didn't. At one point a few of us started throwing out names of people who didn't show; "Where's Dave Rygell?" "Where's Becky Gurshaw?" "Where's Bill Kish?" "Where's Mark Zdunczyk?" "Where's Garold Vallie?" "Where's Chris McGraw?"
I really wasn't too surprised when I found myself sitting with Jeff Dunlap and Steve Chesney. I knew that the old cliques would still be in place twenty years later. It made sense, of course, as Dunlap and Chesney were the only guys there I still hang out with. Likewise, our table had a few guests during the evening like Stephanie Kaufman and Brett McCartney -- two other folks I talked to intermittently after high school.
Luckily, I didn't blank on anyone's name when they'd come up to shake my hand. I'd always remember them at the last second between saying "Hey...." and their name. There were a few folks I didn't manage to talk to all night. I wasn't avoiding anyone; some I just didn't seek out while a few of them I didn't recognize either by sight or by name. I didn't go outside of the folks in my little circle of friends, in band, or in my classes.
Having only attended Andrea's class reunion, I wasn't sure what to expect out of mine but imagined things like awards for "most distance traveled", "biggest breeder", "just paroled", "most talent squandered", "biggest belly", "most hair lost", etc (I'd be a shoe in for the latter two). But, no. It was a lot of mingling, some drinking, pizza, cake, and reminiscences. A very... interesting... night.