The Reunion (re-opened)

[attyman80]

Setting a scene where Greg (me, 43/m) has returned to campus of his New England liberal arts college for his 20th anniversary alumni reunion. I am a successful attorney, but recently divorced. A bit reluctant to attend the event, but the intrigue of seeing a long lost crush or girlfriend is just enough to compel me to make the journey back to campus. I am a bit more comfortable and confident than I was in college, but the divorce has rattled my world.

Interested female partners- please tell me who you might play in this role. I promise detail, build up, and surprises. Will close once the right partner is found. Thanks!

 

[attyman80]

As I pulled my new BMW sports coupe (a slightly vain post-divorce present to myself) off the interstate and down the familiar country road toward campus, I became filled with thoughts and memories of my college years. So many firsts- drinks, light drug experimentation, real friendships, parties, thought provoking late nights after the book club that grew out of our first year seminar, and (last but not least) the wonders of the opposite sex. While those four years were so monumental in my life and growth from my sheltered, conservative adolescence, yet I have often lamented not taking full advantage of all that college life had to offer.

I sigh deeply with this mix of emotions as I pull through the ornate wrought iron college gates towards the administration building parking lot. Campus was always particularly energized in the warmth of mid-spring and that could be felt on this Friday afternoon despite students having finished exams two weeks prior.

Sure, I could have stayed at the Marriott (the only somewhat respectable hotel in the small town that gave the college its name and geographical identity), but I opted for the “Full Campus Experience” with accommodations in the dorms “just like the good ol’ days…” At least I had the decency to book a single room with en suite bath, a common upgrade for today’s student, but not something offered to students 20 years ago.

Out of my car, I climbed the imposing granite steps of the administration building. The registration desk was staffed by two perfectly brochure-ready coeds. I sense myself subtly slip into the awkwardness of my earlier years that I thought I had shed years ago as I sheepishly say “uhh hi, Greg Galloway, class of uhh ‘02.” The two students respond “welcome home, Greg!” in unison with a light chuckle, repeating the line the alumni office insist they say to each guest. I smile politely as they look for my welcome packet. They direct me to my old dorm, which was fully renovated a couple years ago.

While the exterior looks the same, the interior of the dorm is barely recognizable. Other than the twin bed, my single room is nicer than many hotels I have stayed in. I take some time to relax and decompress before sorting through the welcome packet and itinerary for the event. Various options, speeches, happy hours, meals, tours, and options seem to make for busy days.

I soon realize the welcome happy hour is fast approaching. I shower, change into comfortable khakis, a neatly pressed blue button down shirt, a tweed jacket. “Well here goes nothing…” I say to myself as I look into the mirror.

 

[attyman80]

Looking for someone to pick this up…

 

[MsK2021]

I've made it to this 20th anniversary alumni reunion. I didn't think it would mean much to look at the bits and pieces of disconnected and detached old memories. Some “real friendships” made 20 years ago are no longer real. We drifted apart by natural forces and they all disappeared into the unknown. This kind of get-together is only good for those who have made it to successful careers and have something proud to tell the crowd..... I don't think I am in the position. I'll make it short and clear, I am working at an Escort Service agency. No, I don't work as an escort. I am the manager. The manager.

I didn't really see a purpose for coming to this alumni reunion. But, a quite big 'But', something, I mean somebody, a man, a familiar face, appeared at my front desk at work yesterday. He came for an escort service.
I put down the name he gave me on the list---“Greg”. After he left, I kept thinking about that familiar face all night and came to a conclusion that he could be one of the guys at a liberal arts class. He could be the guy who used to sit in the back of the room. When the professor asked the class a question, this guy would be the one to speak up and answered the question. Whenever he spoke, everybody listened, including the professor. I did admire the strength of his mind and his ability to speak. I don't remember if he and I ever talked to each other.

So, I've made it to this 20th anniversary alumni reunion. Just to look around. Only to look around.
Parts of the campus are barely recognizable. I am walking here and there. Slowly. Strolling. Round and around and havn't seen any familiar faces. Then I soon realize the happy hour is fast approaching. I rambled my way to the wash-room, looking into the mirror, I hear myself saying, “ It's been 20 years”.

 

[attyman80]

The happy hour was the same as the countless events I have to attend for work. Sure, there were the faces that I hadn’t seen in years (many of whom I barely recognized despite being “such close friends” in college), but the small talk, the tight circles of people politely chatting, the mid-level booze (not too cheap to be tacky, but not expensive enough to blow the event budget) were all too familiar. I attend so many of these events, I have started looking for ways to make them more interesting. But more about that another time.



Gently sipping a bourbon in a rocks glass I make my way through the obligatory circles. “You look great… it’s been sooo long… I see you’ve made a nice career… blah blah blah…” each conversation less enthralling then the next. “This was a mistake” I think to myself before being cornered by the alumni giving director, who tries to pry the checkbook out of me with a sugary sweet fakeness.



“I gotta get out of here.” I sigh and look for the exit. As I meander in that direction, I spot a familiar face standing alone at the corner of the bar. “Where do I know her from….” my mind races “not from here, but where…”



My jaw drops when it hits me- the woman from the escort agency… In my attempt to make my next fundraiser event more interesting, I curiously (maybe stupidly) inquired about an escort from an agency that was highly recommended by a colleague familiar with “the industry.” And now that manager, who seemed professional, friendly, and competent (not to mention attractive) in our brief interaction was here at my college reunion.



I approach slowly, not sure if you’ll recognize me or what the proper protocol is under these circumstances. “You know… Lilac’s don’t seem to be in bloom.” I say with a friendly smile, referring to the fact that her “colleague” never contacted me after my booking. “But flowers were never really my thing.” My eyes meet yours warmly.