Peter G (sinetimore) wrote,
Peter G
sinetimore

And Then, There's The Flipside To Small Town Living....

So I'm off to the lunch counter for a little dinner before bed.  I've been working hard on the layouts for Head Above Water and frankly didn't feel like cooking.  When I'm tired and it's near the end of the day, I have a simply maxim -- anything that takes longer to make than it does to eat is not worth the effort.

I head in there with my typing laptop (Maria, repurposed thanks to OpenOffice.org), and as I get ready to open the door, I see a flyer in the window.

Advertising my sort-of high school reunion.

I hated the other kids in high school.  I came here in the third grade, when everyone had already formed their little social cliques.  My mom drilled into my head that the most important thing was to make friends, and if anyone picked on me, prove I'm the bigger man by not fighting.  This meant that the kids felt they had carte blanche to pick on me.  It wasn't until the last day of my junior year in high school that I had an epiphany, and my senior year, I started fighting back.  And suddenly, they left me alone!

Because of my brains, I got usually got stuck with the honors students and advance placement kids.  Let me tell you, what a bunch of jagoffs.  One kid, the leader of the preps, had a girlfriend relatively new to the school (I think she transfered in in her junior year).  They became an item, the usual "kids in the same class" bullshit.  Now, she was smart.  More booksmart, though.  He would join his buddies making fun of her for being a dumb blonde when her grades were not statistically different from his.  She'd get upset, as you would expect.  He'd then talk to her, giving her a, "Cantcha take a joke?" speech, she'd forgive him, and the cycle would repeat.  I had the lowest grades in the class, but they typically made fun of me for other stuff (like, oh, drawing cartoons).  They were a cut above, and reveled in it, and looked down on the world from their perch.

By way of contrast, I had some classes with the "regular" kids.  They treated each other decent.  And they thought I was the coolest.  I could help them with their homework and help them grasp complex ideas.  Plus, I was fun.  They loved the cartoons.  I did an impersonation of Ronald Reagan that had them rolling in the aisles.  Having a sense of humor also came in handy with one kid.  The teacher was late to class.  He found out I was Polish (something I didn't really hide) and he started telling Polish jokes.  I just sat there quiet until one of the other kids leaned in and said, "In case you're wondering, he's Italian."  Well, Polish jokes and Italian jokes are pretty much the same thing, all you have to do is change the national identity.  I stood up, and for every Polish joke he threw at me, I threw an Italian joke back.  This continued until the teacher showed up.  Afterwards, he bought me a can of soda and said I was a funny guy.  Guess who I preferred hanging around with?

(Side note:  the regular kids thought it was a hoot when I took the ACT, and not only beat every one of the preps' scores, but tied the school record.  The principal lost five bucks to the gym teacher when they bet who would nail it.)

Ten years after I graduated, I got an invitation to my ten year high school reunion.  The committee was headed by the very preps who made my life Hell for most of my school years.  Part of the reason I looked forward to graduating was I wouldn't have to see them again.  I hated hated hated nearly every one of them.  There were only a couple of kids I was friends with after high school, and one only that I'm friends with now.  And I don't need a reunion to hang out with him, I just call him up and suggest doing something dopey.

The thing about the ten year reunion was they originally planned a banquet hall and such.  But there wasn't enough interest.  It turned out to only be a smattering of them.  I heard through a friend that they wound up having the reunion at a local bar, making it sound like a Jeff Foxworthy joke.

Now, there's the regulation reunion coming up.  Only it's not just my class.  There's a four year window, presumably to get some decent numbers in there.  And yes, it's at a local bar again.  Jesus titty-fucking Christ.

I know lots of people would love to do a Romy And Michelle bit.  But basically, this reunion has all the marks of "Come and feel superior!"  After all, none of them really liked each other, or there wouldn't have been that undercurrent of hostility in all the classes.  And frankly, if I want to feel superior to them, I started that after I started my senior year.  I don't need a class reunion to validate my anger.

Wow.  What a way to go all out.....
Tags: haven't we suffered enough, important life lessons, stupidity
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