Translated…
The message light blinked on and off on my cell, like it usually does, I’d become agitated, as I slid open to the page, “Must be the Sales Department from work”, I’d guessed. But, the words that came up, caught me in a dumb daze for a few short seconds, there’s going to be an elementary reunion, do I, or, do I not, go?
Half a month later, I stood, in front of an Italian restaurant on the East Side, with an ironed plaid dress shirt, with trousers, I’d even gotten, a brand new fashionable do too. In order to avoid the awkwardness of not being able to recognize anybody, I’d taken down that yearbook that’s covered with dust down, and memorized everybody’s name.
I’d swallowed a bit, straightened my clothes, pushed open the doors to the restaurant. Entered into the room, immediately, there was, a man in smiles, ushered me to come in and sit, I’m guessing, that he was, the one who’d put this together, but, he really didn’t look familiar one bit.
As we just sat down, everybody was still shy, but, after all, we were, former classmates who’d graduated from a long time ago, not long thereafter, we’d become, chatty. There were a lot of classmates who’d shown up this time, the only regret was, our homeroom instructor couldn’t be here, but, seeing how my former classmates had gone their own ways, some became teachers, there were foremen, and there were, politicians too, it was, refreshing. After a few drinks and getting caught up, I’d walked out of the restaurant.
And, as I was about to get in my car parked on the opposite side of the streets, I was, ready to go, and, someone had, tapped me on my shoulder, I’d, turned around, isn’t the person smiling at me, my former teacher? Then, a long line of people followed behind her, laughing and talking, as they walked out of the doors of the restaurant on the opposite side of the streets. I’d, focused my eyes, hey, how come, those people who are walking out bore the resemblances to the yearbook photos? It’d dawned on me, I’d walked into the WRONG restaurant in the first place!
So, instead of going to your OWN reunion, you’d CRASHED into someone else’s, but hey, nobody recognized anybody, after all, it’d been so long, and this becomes, an unforgettable experience, and I’m sure, that you will be talking about it for years on end, as that time that I’d gone to the WRONG class reunions, but still had a great time!