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Later that week, I was at a coffee house with my friends. Susie and Vince are my sweet, anal-sex-enjoying friends. Jill is my indie porn star buddy and Ben is my gay bestie. They’re each so important in my life in his or her own special way. I know what you’re thinking. The way I described them sounds like new cast members on Big Brother or something.
I was staring at my latte trying to figure out how people made the froth do the picture thing on Facebook. You know what I mean. The heart or the love birds or the most recent one to float around the web was the foamy penis squirting jizz. My foam looked kind of like my grandma’s old hairdo, the helmet hair.
I’m so fucking weird sometimes.
I was using my finger to wi
pe away the strange picture in my drink, turning the helmet hair into long spiky troll hair, when Ben popped the question.
“Who’s going to the reunion?”
None of us answered.
“The 20-year high school reunion?” he prodded.
“We didn’t even go to your school,” Vince reminded him as he held Susie’s hand up, clutched in his like they’d won an Olympic gold medal together.
“We haven’t gone to any of our reunions,” I said.
“Mandy, this is the best one,” Ben said. “You know what they say…”
I didn’t know what THEY say. I didn’t even know who THEY were.
“Enlighten me,” I replied.
“The five year reunion sucks because no one has accomplished anything yet. Most are graduating from university and that’s about it. It’s basically a second prom. Everyone looks and acts the same. The ten year…well that’s all about who has what. It’s about who has the hottest car and the highest paying job and the best looking husband or wife. It’s so superficial. But the twenty year…”
He stopped and sipped from his latte, slowly, enjoying his own suspense. He looked at all of us and then took another looooong sip.
“Ben,” I said. “If you don’t hurry up with this lesson, I’m going to kick you in the balls.”
“Eww, slut.”
He continued.
“Okay, so the twenty year reunion is different. By now, half the class has gotten divorced, most of the popular whores are single mothers, and most of the hot jocks are stocking the soda machines at local universities. There’s bound to be a crack addict or two, at least one nerd is super successful, and a handful of the coolest kids…”
Ben pointed a finger from each hand down at himself.
“Like this guy,” he added. “Have turned out to be gay and fabulous.”
“I’ll go with you,” Jill declared.
I whipped my head around and glared at her.
“You were a class ahead of us,” I argued. “Your twenty year was last year and you said you weren’t going because you didn’t even like seeing half of those mean and ugly bastards on social media.”
“Yes, I hated my class. But yours. I was the older and wiser one and I fucked the shit out of a couple of the guys from your class.”
“Jay Cunning, I know,” I said.
“He was one of many,” she replied. “But who cares. The point is, I’m going, and I’m going to get me some repeat dick if you know what I mean.”
“Me tooo!” Ben said as he lifted up a hand to high-five Jill.
“You weren’t even gay in high school,” I reminded him.
Ben leaned forward as if he were about to tell me the greatest secret of all time.
