last weekend i crashed my own 5-year high school reunion. we were all supposed to pay ahead, but i snuck in through the back of the golf course tent while the bartender wasn't looking. man, i had forgotten what kind of people i went to school with. the girls were in strapless dresses of only slightly varying silhouettes, and the guys were in white pants and blue oxford shirts. the guys (chuckling and slapping one another on the back, naturally) all made a few line drives before slamming back their bud lights. some people had increased their smooth factor x10 (every sentence i said to these people was met with gutteral, chest-thumping iterations of 'nice, nice, glad that's workin' out for ya,' punctuated by sudden jerks of the chin); one girl increased her waistline x10 (but overall class weight remained constant, because she was balanced out by one guy who got suddenly, inexplicably very skinny); and awkwardly worded pseudo-latinate plaques were awarded (lots of WHEREAS clauses, no verbs unless they were couched in WHEREAS clauses) to retiring teachers.

i reconnected with one or two people who were important to me, though, and that was the purpose of going. also i gave this one guy a really hard time for selling out and working for a bank and owning a condo at 23, even as he was driving me to the train station in his shiny beamer.

verdict: crash 10-year reunion, where alcohol is free.