The Strange Case of Paula Hughes

During my quest for elusive boat parts, I drove past my old high school in Miami. That brought up the subject of high school reunions. My own thoughts on why people tolerate them is twofold.

1. To see if the cool kids turned out worse than you did.
2. To get a second shot at the member(s) of the opposite sex you blew the first shot with.
My guess is either result would be disappointing; hence, I’ve never been to one. Plus they never invited me. I mentioned this to my lone surviving friend from those less-than-glorious days.
”Maybe they couldn’t locate you”, he proffered.
Not so. My parents stayed put for a full fifteen years after my graduation. And it’s not like I didn’t slog that institution’s hallowed halls. I joined clubs. I lettered in sports. I even ran for class president (and lost big time).
OK, I quit all that my senior year and surrendered my letter sweater to some thugs in Jamaica. Perhaps that had something to do with my low invitation status. Still, it would’ve been nice to have been asked.
Then three years ago, through the miracle of the internet, I found a website, “palmettoreunion.com”. My fortieth reunion, which I hadn’t been invited to, was only three months away. Attending wasn’t an option since I was bobbing somewhere in the Caribbean. Plus I wouldn’t be caught dead at the damn thing. But I was intrigued.
One of the organizers (Paula), sounded familiar. I inquired about a few folks, got the news back (bad) and discovered she was a writer. I asked if she’d like to get reacquainted when I returned to the States. We agreed to meet for coffee after her weekly writing group the following year.
Months later, we sat at the counter of a Cuban café discussing our adolescence, a subject that I‘d long avoided. Much to my surprise, tapping into those feelings wasn’t painful at all; it was fascinating. I suggested we keep in touch. Paula politely refused.
“I have all the friends I need in my life”, she told me. And then left.
I stood there befuddled. Paula would’ve made my reason #2 reunion list had I been single, but we were both married. (I’d even brought a buddy with me so there’d be no inference of impropriety.)
“That was so……high school,” I thought. And there it was.

p.s. A good friend & struggling writer is about to publish his first novel. His baldhead editors want perfect strangers to “Like” his FB page. So here it is:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Andrew-Joyce/595023267193024
Kindly do him the honor. He really needs the cash.