The reunion is done and over. It was great to see old friends and catch up on what was going on in the lives of others. Of course there were people who have only gotten sweeter and more sincere, but also those who wouldn't come to the "pay portion" of the night because, "why bother, I don't drink tap beer anyway!" Excuse me while a barf into my paper class of '96 napkin. It makes you wonder if some people will ever grow up?
Saturday night a bunch of old friends started out at my house. Some, I literally hadn't seen in 10 years. We had a drink (I mixed fancy N/A's for some of us) and poceeded onto the big event. It was a prom gone bad! Pedro and the other husbands immediately headed to the bar, and that's where they stayed. I guess someone needed to drink-up for the price we payed for the night. By dinner I think the guys were feeling a little "happy" already, but the status of the men quickly went in a downward spiral.
Pedro took over the D.J.'s job and microphone for the entire night. Not just a song or two, but the whole night. Things really started to get interesting when Pedro started to sing Kareoke.
"Wow, you had Kareoke at your class reunion?"
No, but if you take away the D.J.'s microphone and sing into it louder than the music playing, Kareoke can be done anywhere! And this is what I learned. Some people probably thought this was pretty funny. I however did not. Had I not been sober, possibly. Had it been someone elses spouse, absolutely!
We left around midnight. I informed Pedro it was time to "punch-out" his shift was over, and that was it. We were in bed by 1am and someone was snoring an alcohol induced snore by 1:02am. Great times, great times.