It's been 10 years since I graduated and I've been pretty excited to attend the first High School Reunion that my graduating class has organized. I know, I know, a lot of people think they're stupid. Why would you want to see a bunch of people you didn't really get along with back in the day? Unless you were popular of course. Or wildly successful and want to rub it in everyone's noses. Or bored. Not me, I mostly got along with everyone back then and I was genuinely curious to hear about where people ended up and with who they ended up.
I can't say that I have many wild and crazy stories to tell since I graduated. I'm still single, no children to speak of. I run a small antique shop about an hour west of where I grew up. My life has been pretty uneventful overall. I'm not complaining. I tend to like the simple life I've dug out for myself.
So the day of the reunion, I woke up and climbed out of bed. I put a robe on and sat down at my computer. It's a daily ritual, checking emails for the shop to see what orders have been made, and on deliveries in and out. I had ordered this very hard-to-track-down antique vase for my Aunt Wendy weeks ago. It was a perfect match for her favorite one that I had accidentally broken months ago when I paid her a visit. I swore I'd track down a replacement, and after tons of searching and contacting my dealer network, I had finally tracked down a match and let me tell you.
It. Was. Not. Cheap.
So I was ecstatic that the shipment was finally arriving. I had it shipped to a distribution center that was about half an hour's drive away, and it happened to be en-route to where the reunion was to take place. Not only that, but my Aunt lived right in the middle of town and I could drop the vase off after the reunion had ended. Perfect!
After breakfast, I began getting ready for this evening. I showered, washed my shoulder length of hair, brushed it, dried it and styled it with some cute barrettes I liked to wear. I considered wearing a dress but that wasn't so much my thing, dresses. Instead, I reached for an old high school shirt in the back of my closet. It still fit, though now a slight bit of midriff was showing due to my having grown since then. That's right, no bra. I don't wear bras. It's not that I'm flat, I happen to be nicely proportionate for my build. I just don't like to wear them. They're uncomfortable. I also pulled on some comfortable shorts and sandals. Just an average outfit, slightly reminiscent of what I wore back in the day.
When I was ready, I set out for the Distribution center so that I could pick up the antique I had ordered. That didn't take long, I knew the routine. Just walk in, give them the tracking number, sign where they ask you to sign, they hand you a box, and out the door you go. I loaded it into the back of my Jeep.
Next stop, Ardinsville, USA, where I went to school. I pulled into town a little after one and had some time to blow before the reunion. I got some lunch and walked around for a little while remembering what my old stomping grounds looked like. It has been quite a while. I ran into a familiar face when I passed through the park at the library, but couldn't remember his name and felt too embarrassed to ask when he clearly knew mine. I asked if he was going to be at the reunion, and he reminded me that he was a year younger than me, his reunion was next year. He did appreciate our brief catching up. We parted with me still not being able to remember his name.
At last, the time for the reunion was at hand. It was nice meeting up with past faces. Old friends, acquaintances, and even a few people I never really spent any time with back in the day. A few people expressed interest in visiting my antique shop sometime to pick up gifts for grandparents and other friends or relatives.
My old crush, a handsome man named Daniel Brown, was just as handsome as ever. He was in town only briefly visiting family and was able to attend the reunion due to the timing working out. He lived in New York City these days.
My best friend from school, Alicia, was there too and we picked right up where we left off years ago. She managed to get a sitter for her two children and so she was free to drink and enjoy herself. Which we did plenty of. I don't know why we had grown apart, it probably had something to do with the distance between where we lived and her having children, but we vowed to make a greater effort to reconnect more often.
It was a nice evening, but it eventually came to a close. Alicia had to get back to her children and I still had a long drive ahead of me after I dropped my Aunt's antique off. So I said my goodbyes and went on my way.
Outside, I found myself in a wistful and nostalgic mood. So I grabbed my aunt's vase from the car and decided to walk the two blocks to her house so that I could enjoy the memories of my time growing up in the town. I decided to travel through the park to get to my Aunt's house. As I walked I began to think about all the fun my friends and I used to have in this park. The swings were always a favorite, but I loved the Monkey Bars. We used to climb up to the top and just sit and talk for hours.
I wondered if the view up there was as I remembered so I set the vase down gently in the grass and climbed up to the top. The Monkey Bars were about 10 feet tall, and it was shaped like a big dome. All the bars wrapped around it creating triangle-shaped openings to grab hold of and step on to for climbing. Age hadn't been too kind, I noticed, as there was plenty of rust and some of the bars were loose. I also saw that a few of the bolts that kept it together had begun to stick out. I guess I felt that it all added to the charm of the place. It didn't take me long to reach the top.
I sat there a short while watching the sun sink lower in the sky. If you couldn't tell by now, I like to reminisce. Those days when I was a kid were some of the most fun I had ever had and I cherished those memories. I was so lost in thought that I didn't hear anyone approaching until they were right in front of the bars.
"Hey look at this!" One exclaimed, snapping me out of it. A teenage boy walked up and grabbed the vase in one hand, holding it up for everyone to see.
"Hey! Be careful with that! " I called out, fearing that they might damage it. "Put it down. Gently!"
"Is this yours?" The kid asked, holding it out again with one arm.
"Yes, but please be careful! It's not something I can replace!"
"Ok, catch!" The little snot heaved the vase up towards me.
Of all the things I might have expected, that was not one. The vase sailed up towards me so I flung my hands out to catch it. I managed to get my fingers around it as it passed over my head, but the momentum pulled me backward and I began to slide down the other side of the monkey bar dome. About halfway down I felt something snag my pants and I abruptly halted, nearly dropping the vase.
The momentum of my fall caused me to slide a few inches out of my shorts. It wasn't enough to cause me to flash the rest of the park, but the front of my lace panties were partially on display. Surprisingly this wasn't my greatest concern.
I still held the antique vase in my arms which were extended well over my head, and since I was upside down hanging from the monkey bars my shirt had slid over my chest and settled over my face blocking my view of pretty much everything but the ground below me. I could feel the cool breeze flow over my exposed breasts.
The vase was a little heavy and was pretty awkward to hold in this position, so I couldn't risk freeing either hand to tug my shirt down without risk of potentially dropping it.
Thankfully it sounded like the kids had run off. I took a moment to assess my situation. My chest was fully exposed, the shirt having fallen up over my face. I am starting to slide out of my shorts. My Aunt's precious vase grasped in my hands, and I think my foot got twisted in one of the bars and it was starting to hurt. Just great.
