This weekend, so-called adults will have awkward high school reunions all across America. We asked you for your worst high school reunion horror stories. We're publishing our favorites during the holiday. Here's one, from reader Steve.
I attended with my wife her 15th high school class reunion. It was in a small town in northwest Illinois where her class size was only 88. (88 in '88—which was amusing.) The last time she attended, she had just broken her ankle walking around on crutches while pregnant with our first. Needless to say, we were hoping to have a better experience.
The night started out pretty easily, catching up with some friends and getting acquainted with new ones. There were a little over a hundred people in attendance, and, scanning the room, I realized that since this is a small town, my presence as the only Asian male made me stick out like a sore thumb. It really didn't bother me as I knew many of the people already attending and most everyone else was too occupied with their friends to even notice.
Early in the evening, one of the returnees, let's name him Greg, prances into the reunion with what you could tell was a "I just drank so I could survive this evening" look. He was flamboyant, loud, and very chatty. As we sat down for our dinner (keep in mind, it was the back of a bar area), Greg starts talking it up to every person he sees and knows. People's heads are turning and noticing his overly excited enthusiasm on life and what he's doing now. You could see half-cocked smiles and grimaces when he'd change to a different table to chat it up with his new set of old best friends.
Greg finally makes it to our table and is lavishing praise to everyone and asking about what people are doing. He then looks at me quizzically and asks loudly, "I don't remember you, are you the foreign exchange student?" The restrained laughs and chuckles from the entire room of about 100 could be barely contained as my wife had to explain to him that no I wasn't, I was her husband. This answer didn't cause him to respond apologetically, but made him ask another question. "What nationality are you?" I responded that I was Filipino, which made him both shutter and respond in a oddly fanciful way, "OOOHHHHH, I may have sired a number of children who are Filipino. I used to live in the Philippines where I used to spend time with many a lonely women."
Keep in mind, Greg has no "low volume" and you start seeing parents with kids and other attendees wince with the thought. I attempt to humor him, but by the time I'm able to create a suitable retort, he was off to the next table and anyone who would recognize his presence. We find out throughout the rest of the night about his world travels and his horrible relationship with his dad growing up. It became quite clear that something was wrong with Greg and he was making up for lost time.
For the rest of the night and since, I've become the unofficial "Long Duk Dong" of my wife's class and with the next reunion coming up soon, I'm sure that people can't wait to see me again.
However, I'm not sure about Greg… or his kids.