Sat Oct 22 20:01:57 SAST 2016

Reunions are oh so dreadful

By unknown | May 26, 2008 | COMMENTS [ 0 ]

I was just getting used to my tragicomedy of a life when this bored individual went and put his foot in it.

I was just getting used to my tragicomedy of a life when this bored individual went and put his foot in it.

He might as well have sent a memo saying we have a reunion next week.

Damn it, don't people have any respect for others' privacy? I won't explain to him that everything happens for a reason. On second thoughts, I will. The reason we don't go to that college any more is because the seats are now smaller.

Why swim against the tide? But no amount of dissuasion is going to work. Some people have already sent their RSVPs to fuel his excitement to heights unprecedented.

Is it because he has not acquired the BEE belly? I sure hope he got rid of the fake gold filling. I know some of us aren't that hot any more and need to be left in peace bathong. We are trying to juggle too much as it is.

He and smug revellers on the other side got hitched, drive snazzy cars and fly with the eagles.

Meanwhile, the female son of a gun that I am still drives a jalopy, my dreadlocks aren't making waves and, frankly, I'm lucky I moved out of my mom's nest. This stinks.

A friend says as long as I tuck my tummy in, bite off a huge chunk of cheese before I drink, I'll be fine. What about these women who'll be flashing their glittering rocks in my face? She says I can just go and buy one shiny Fong Kong and bling it back at the blingers.

Also, my temperature has begun to rise with every mention of the fateful event. Someone keeps threatening to kiss his crush from the past.

One bachelor, who I hope still has a fine ass, keeps assuring us we will witness a smooch during the do. If he does it to someone else I will file for discrimination and if I'm the chosen one, he might rue the day he got the idea.

See, I'm that anxious about this imminent jovial night.

Don't people know how to go on with their lives and leave the past where it belongs?

If I'm very lucky, I might fit into my costume. Yes they had to make it worse by pasting a theme to it. I need to squeeze myself into (believe it or not) a cat-woman costume. For the record, even though gentlemen have tried persuading me otherwise, I'm far from cat woman, more like bear woman these days. It's done, I will look like Excrucia from the movie Norbit.

Oh busybodies can drive the joy away. I am only now realising how bountiful life was before this invitation landed on my desk.

My only source of comfort is that the over-achiever I used to drool over is getting divorced and he has confirmed his attendance.

I want to sit opposite him, look him straight in the eye and tell him how late it is for him to be giving me that look. I hope his ex is nothing like me. I came close to running my jalopy over his new flame after my man left.

Or maybe I'll ask Mandla Mthembu to hook me up with a rich retard and pray that he doesn't open his mouth throughout the night.

Oh but how do you conceal the signs when you've just been hooked up? Well since there's no doing this perfectly, I'll just hire a drop-dead sex worker and call him Petros Ramafatha my fiance.

I hope he won't be gay and start flirting with my alpha male comrades.

Someone, please ban reunions before I do something stupid.

How to get ready for a reunion

lBe sure to take a camera with you. Charge it and make sure it's in working condition.

lDo something with your hair. Everyone will look better and you'll certainly feel better about yourself.

lHave cheese before drinking and drink slower. Have a glass of water with each glass of alcohol.

lTry not to wear your famous outfit from the past. People can still recognise it.

lCarry tissues, it gets emotional at times.

lCarry your business cards, you might want to rekindle old contacts.

lBe prepared for the worst. While you were globetrotting, your old high school friend may have tied the knot with your childhood flame.

lDon't forget your wallet. There's nothing worse than having to depend on people you might never see again for money.


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