It actually was my high school reunion. I don't know how I agreed to come here, but I did. Nearly 30 years, man we're all older. I had to be on the coast for business, those high school friends I'm still in touch with from the Northwest, upstate New York, Michigan, and midtown all agreed we should go to this one.
We had a fairly good time during the cocktails and the beginning of the dancing. It was the actual band (or their children, man they looked terrible) playing Earth Wind and Fire from the late 70s, white bell bottom and super wide lapels. Since no one really wanted to stay late and we all agreed to meet tomorrow for brunch, they all departed. The highlight was dancing again with Sarah, who was my prom date three decades back. I remember being so flustered taking out who I thought was the cutest babe in the school. We apparently had little in common, didn't speak too much, danced, snorted some coke for the first time at an after party, and I drove her home. I got a kiss on the cheek, nothing more. I was so hoping for a boner glove, I hadn't been laid yet, I was a pathetic dreamer. We never evolved into anything, school ended and we all went our separate ways. I sometimes wondered what happened to her over the years.
So she actually came up to me with a drink in her hands. I was engaged in laughter with Sammy, the fat cello player who became gay, Robert, who I used to pick on but now is a mathematician on Wall Street, and Marco, a high school teacher across town.
Sarah said, "Red, it's me, Sarah. Dance?"
"I saw you from across the room, I was thinking of a way to apologize for the lousy time I offered during our senior prom," I responded, taking her hand, "Man, those were rough years." She looked the same, only more beautiful with age, finely featured, still blond, wonderful figure.
We tried to boogie, the groove was really pathetic, then it turned to a slower number and we continued. She moved in closer and spoke as we tried to hide our embarrassment at this silly ritual.
"You doing well?"
"Good, it's a lot of years, where you been hiding?"
"Chicago area, family, job, you?"
"East Coast, New York, work."
"High school was a weird time."
And we sat down and spoke for a few minutes until her companion for the night Melanie (first a model, then a writer, now living in LA on anti-depressants, the gossip is still feverish) came over and pleaded to leave. We all said our goodbyes.
I hung out for another half hour until Sammy started scanning for boy meat. We all finally parted. I was staying in the hotel and went to the bar in the lobby upstairs.
At the bar I ordered a scotch. It came and I took a sip, it felt good. With all the chatter and recollections, I hadn't really drank that much and needed a decent buzz. After tomorrow's schedule, I had a red-eye to the east coast, then to Europe the next day, not exactly anything to look forward to. I wanted a buzz and a good night's sleep.
The barman placed a delicious plate of sushi next to me, apparently for someone else. I eyed the food longingly, considering ordering something. Another sip and then the smell hit me. It was rancid, a horrible deep sulphuric odor, thick and meaty. I looked around for the source... a decaying bag of trash, rotten food leftovers. I almost coughed as it dissipated away. Wow! That was something else!
"Put that on my tab," she said, pointing to my drink and picking up the food. "Red, come sit with me."
I was pleasantly surprised to find Sarah there, alone. I took my drink and followed her back to a corner. The room was outfitted with wicker pods, Moroccan-themed, a cushioned seat for two or three persons and a table all encapsulated within a wicker tent. Looking in it was dark, very private; these were situated along the back walls and corners. The lights were very low and there were few patrons. I sat beside her and she put her plate down. She was working on something herself.
"Scotch?" I asked.
"Bourbon, I'm in finance," she responded.
The conversation came easier as we began to catch up. We talked about her life, her kids, her husband.
"... and then things began falling apart after the birth of our second daughter, she's five now."
"What happened?" I asked.
"Well, it's kind of, you know, private. Have some sushi, jeez is this good, I love tuna belly."
And she picked up a piece of ruby red tuna sushi and gently devoured it, very sensuously it eased into her mouth, the wasabi coating her finger as she tongued it off. She took a big swig of her drink and looked at me.
"Really Red, I remember liking you in high school, but we were all so geeky, going through all that shit and feelings and lack of self and you know... waiting to find out what the other person thought before acting... adolescent crap, kind of a waste of time from this side of forty."
"True," I responded, "I mean, look at all those assholes tonight, where are they?"
"How do you feel about me, Red, right now? I turned you down decades ago, did you ever forgive me? What's it like to see me again? Did you ever think of me?"
"Right now, I'm buzzed, a bit jet lagged, and feel as if I'm sitting with the most beautiful girl on the planet." I took a piece of sushi and ate it slowly. "Where's your husband, what happened, are you guys together?"
"Well, I suppose talking to someone you see every thirty years or so is safer than your best friend and my shrink told me I need to express it; I'm drunk, what the fuck, you really want to know?"
"Try me Sarah."
"He hurt me. It was the sex. Now don't get any ideas Red, you and I are just old friends talking about what a man and a woman always think about. After the kids were born, he stopped physical contact with me, kind of lost interest pretty quickly. Told me, he actually said my pussy was too big for his pleasure, I suppose too stretched."