The Contingency Plan

After months of anticipation, nightly commitments to diet the next day and borderline obsessive thoughts about outfits, former flames and friendships, the Friday night fluttered in and so began my 11 year high school reunion.

The friend who was supposed to stay with us decided at the last minute not to offend her cousin (who lives in our old 'hood) so I met up with, Emilie (who I actually didn't hang out with back in the day), and Luc drove us out west.

Emilie was part of the very popular crowd of girls who all the popular boys either dated or wanted to date. A gorgeous Greek lass with beautifully large eyes and an infectious grin, Emilie was never pretentious, spoke softly and was someone whose company was always comfortable and enjoyable.

I was so thankful for the car ride as it gave me an opportunity to catch up on insider goss, share anxious excitment, affirmations on outfits and hair and even a bitchy session about how our dealings with Dylan are so similar. It was a relief. I also found out that all of Emilie's "friends" from high school have treated her very poorly since our school days and she's not in touch with any of them anymore.

This was going to be an interesting night.

We arrived at the 2.5 star hotel around 45 minutes after the event began. When Emilie and I opened the car door, we heard screams from a group smoking out front. They were the popular, outspoken and pretty wog* girls I used to hang out with, who all have children now, at least three. They all come from extremely strict families, were WILD outside of this environment and always good fun. And even though Emilie and I haven't seen eachother since graduating, they all exclaimed how similar we looked ("oh my gawd, youse look like, exactly the same!") - the city girls were back out west for the reunion.

Seeing everyone happened in two stages. First was the large group of smokers situation at the bar. Nearly all of them were my old friends. Scrags. There were lots of laughs and hugs and expressions of bewilderment and then we eagerly entered 'the room'.

The experience mirrors being selected from a game show audience to go up on stage. The vultures were situated either at the bar at one end of the bare room or the door way near the other, all eagerly awaiting fresh meat. Absolutely all eyes were on anyone new who walked through the door.

Now for some observations.

I must say that although most people were fatter, few thinner, some quieter and mostly all drunk, everyone, with the exception of two looked so remarkably the same. I merrily bestowed drinks upon anyone who said I looked the same and offers of eternal loyalty were presented to the shocked observers who shamelessly looked me up and down before proclaiming that I couldn't be a mother. I know they were all drunk, shut up already.

Nearly all the guys were married (hello!?) but most of them were actively pursuing something. I had offers of an affair, had to jokingly bitch-slap another father of four who tried to joking touch my breast during a man boob conversation, rebuked another who actually followed me around despite his pregant wife (also from our year) sitting right there, but the best was from Emilie, who had to navigate her way out of a situation where an old flame (and married father of two) claimed he only came to see her and see if they could have a future together. And he was serious.

I hung out a lot with Matt, the only gay guy in the village, partly because he's so damn funny but also out of a motherly instinct of protection. Some guys were so shitty towards him. There were some who shyed away giving subtle looks, but then others who said comments like, "Hey Matt, good to see you, I hear you like it up the ass now". What assholes. At one point we left the party and sat in the deserted restaurant area of the hotel. He was so brave, even the morning after the event, when he returned back to his car, which had suffered broken lights, dented doors and a broken mirror.

I think the thing that struck me the most about the night was how little we've all changed and the thing that most represented this was the end of the night. Yes, there was an actual fight. Stupid, drunken men. One guy got upset at another for calling him a cunt in year seven (yes, 16 years ago). He was Aussie, the other guy Italian and so began the last of our Wog and Aussie fights. The arguments started in the bar, guys holding each other back, lots of yelling and movement and in amongst it all, our school captain vomitting behind them over a table and chair. Emilie's devoted father of two left with another former sweetheart as her original ride left without her...

The argument continued in the carpark once the hotel closed. Punches were exchanged. The two men leading the two sides both married someone from our year, both women were ironically pregnant, holding onto their large girths, shouting abuse at their immature partners, how could they be such babies then they were about to father one... Guys were frantically running between people, there were a few people trying to calm everyone down, but they soon gave up. We left when the wogs started calling their cousins in. Escaped in a cab, shocked and happy to be driving far, far away.

My only regret is that I should've created my tshirt. It was going to contain the juicy bits of my life from the last ten years to save time but after realising that nearly every chick was planning to wear jeans, a singlet or dressy top and heels, chose to wear a short shift dress instead. If I could do it all over again, I would, except the back would read "And if this all ends in an all out brawl, my money's on the wogs"

* Anyone who grew up where I did uses terms like 'wogs' in a very simply matter-of-fact way, with plenty of pride

So, "wogs" must mean Italians. As opposed to WAGS, which is Wives And Girlfriends (of soccer players). I saw a whole bunch of words the other day on SMH that I didn't know. This Australian is a whole other language. Crikey!

I pride myself on having never gone to a high school reunion. My mom and aunt still go to theirs. I was so glad to get out of high school that I never wanted to go back!!!

Wow! That his kind of made me feel a little bit better about having to miss my ten year reunion which will be some time this year.

What a bunch of turds for fighting and picking on Matt. That is really pathetic!

I still can't help being a little jealous of anyone who gets to go to their reunion though. :)