Class Reunion

I just got an email from a High School classmate. Apparently, they are putting together a 20^th reunion.

There are exactly four people that I want to see (out of my graduating class of 300).

My emotions for the rest of the class, and what I will think as I see each of them:

1) Schadenfreude Extraordinaire: I'm so glad your life wound up as a complete failure. You have always been a complete waste of good carbon. You deserve what a crappy live you have. Now go die. I hope it is painful. : 80% of the class.

2) Ambivalent but Pleased: I could care less what became of you, and if I gave a sweet fuck, I'd have tried to contact you at some point over the past 20 years. The fact that I haven't should speak far more sincerely than any polite platitude that I will exchange with you in this brief encounter. Nevertheless, it is nice that your life did not wind up sucking. No, I don't really want to keep in touch. No, nothing personal, I just have way better things to do with my time. No, we shouldn't hang out. Fine, here's my card. Hopefully you will lose it somewhere and never call me. Yawn. Someone kill me to get me out of this vapid conversation. Please. Oh, thank god, a fire! Run! 15% of the class.

3) Actively and Justifiably Depressed: I am really sad to hear that your life wound up as a failure. I did like you, and it was a lot of fun smoking dope with you every day in high school. Unfortunately, you did not have enough escape velocity to break free of the intellectual complacency or whatever other handicaps this institution gave you. Seeing you today bums me out. No, we shouldn't hang out. It's just because you are now a liability to me. No, I have enough problems without coming to see you at the shelter or getting pulled over while you happen to have heroin needles in your pocket. If I can ever secretly do anything to help you, I will, but stay away from me. Mostly, it just makes me sad to see what has become of you because I do appreciate all the pot you smoked with me in high school, and it was pretty cool how you taught me about prescription medication. Also, I definitely never would have passed that test on metrics without you. Thanks for teaching me how many grams are in an ounce. Take care of that pustule or whatever it is growing on you. 5% of the class.

I don’t think I’m gonna go to my reunion. I'd rather get an enema made of thumbtacks and rubbing alcohol.