I graduated high school a long time ago. I track it the way a released prisoner tracks his freedom out of the penitentiary, in glorious moments in the sun. I don't care to talk about, think about or celebrate anything having to do with high school. Reunions are basically the adult version of a kegger...meant for all the assholes who are still reliving their glory years of being class president or the all star baseball pitcher. These fat asses had the best time of their life for four years and adulthood has been a real let down. In most cases, I am pretty sure they deserve to have a shitty life.
I reside in the same town I grew up in, which means I have to make special accommodations not to run into any of the dickheads I hated in high school. I try to shop on off hours and don't participate in community activities unless absolutely necessary for the well being of my children. When I started volunteering at my kid's school, I realized that it was hot zone and I had to adjust my hours accordingly. I have no desire to resurrect what I consider four of the worst years of my life. I am not good at pretending l like people. It makes running into people who use to trip me and call me a fat lesbo quite an awkward exchange. I have been known to push a grocery cart at a break neck speed around a tower of glass jars to avoid eye contact with someone I think looks familiar. I don't want to see their kids. I hate their kids. I am not good at small talk and my face gives away all my hatred in a matter of seconds.
While having a fancy breakfast at Denny's with my husband one morning, my archenemy from the four years of shear agony walked in the door. I wasn't about to leave my blueberry pancakes behind to avoid this cunt, so I dug my heals in and tried to imagine wrapping her up on a kill table and making Dexter proud. I could feel her staring. I had to look up when the waiter came by to refill my coffee and sure as shit, she was waiting for a hand wave. Here is how this broad ruined my life. In junior high, I had boobs that were too large for my body and no friends to speak of. We were in science class and I had on a zip front tank top, don't ask. The boys started in about my giant watermelons and pretty soon the popular girls were getting in on the action, too. We were in the back of the classroom and before I knew what happened, she ran over, laughing and zipped my shirt off. Everyone hollered and made inappropriate gestures. If you don't know what that looks like, imagine a gaggle of prepubescent boys gesturing to their little dicks and acting like they might jump across a desk and know what to do with bare tits. I won't bore you with the details of me crying in the girls bathroom. I realized fairly early on in my life that people are assholes.
The popular group never really grew out of being complete morons. They were rewarded for having the right clothes and the right last name, but even I knew that you can't ride that train for the rest of your life. I'm glad I got the shittiest part of my life over with early on. Missing proms and bad sexual experiences is worth knowing that my life is substantially happier than most of the people who attend every high school reunion. As for my viewing at Denny's, it ended on a high note when I realized that the prettiest/meanest/bitchiest girl from high school goes out for breakfast in a mumu and is tipping the scales at substantially more than 130 pounds. Karma's a bitch. And apparently she got someones number at the last reunion.
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